Safer On The Outside
by Jazz the Wolf Demon
Summary: AU--Once considered the greatest thief of the age, Misao Mackimachi disappeared until a billionaire offered her one final job she just couldn't pass up. The catch? She's got competition in the form of one Aoshi Shinomori.
1. Chapter 1: I'm No Good

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A/N: Well here we are my glorious readers. I have been collaborating on this story with Jesse the Wolf Demon and I think it's a very good one! For all you Aoshi/Misao lovers, be prepared for a lot of action and drama. They don't actually meet for another few chapters though. I anticipate this fic to be pretty long too, just so you know. I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or the song _Safer on the Outside _by the most excellent band called **American Hi-Fi. **

Safer On The Outside

Chapter 1: _"I'm No Good"_

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Himura Towers--

A man sat at a desk inside of a dark office. The windows were large, but blinds were drawn against the light. All the brightness in the room was illuminated from a small desk lamp, giving him just enough light to see by as he shifted through his papers. The computer screen beside him flashed screensavers of peaceful landscapes, and the red button on his phone blinked in a continual rhythm. 

The man at the desk was dressed in a finely tailor business suit. His head of flaming red hair was elegantly tied back at the nape of his neck, not a strand out of place. Violet eyes skimmed over the papers on his desk, document after document, photograph after photograph, file after file. With a disgusted sigh, he tossed the last file on his desk into the ever-growing pile of rejects. So far, there had not been one person qualified enough.

Frustrated, he hit the speaker button on the phone. "Kaoru, are there any files left?" His voice was troubled, and tinged with disappointment.

A lilting female voice answered him from her desk in front of the office. "There's one more, sir."

There was a sound from outside, and then the large oak doors opened and admitted the woman into the office. She was a tall woman, dressed in a smart business suit and high heels. Her black hair was braided in a simple plait down her back to her waist. A pair of small reading glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, calling attention to her large cerulean eyes. In her manicured hands was a file with a few photographs attached to the folder.

The man at the desk leaned back, his arms raised over his head high enough to crack his back, then lounged back in the seat. He crossed his hands behind his head with a polite smile on his face. "I've been reading all day. My eyes are starting to hurt. Would you mind updating me on this one?"

Kaoru smiled prettily and handed over a photograph. The first one was of a woman in her early twenties. "Misao Makimachi," Kaoru said, reading from the file. "Date of birth unknown, but near the age of twenty-four."

She handed over the next photo. This one was of a building with large windows and a home painted sign hanging in front. It looked like some kind of studio with a second-floor house above it. "Current occupation is an instructor at the Makimachi School of Dance." 

Her boss quirked an eyebrow. "A dance teacher?"

The secretary adjusted her spectacles. "Don't judge a thief by her cover, Mr. Himura," she teased. "Thanks to the efforts by our fabulous researcher, we discovered that this woman is actually the infamous 'Phantom Rogue'."

"The Phantom Rogue?" Himura said, sitting up reflexively in his chair. "I always thought he would be a man."

Kaoru smiled knowingly. "Most men would. But if you remember, sir, the last theft made by the Phantom Rogue left evidence suggesting that she was female. And now we have discovered that she is."

"Her last theft was two years ago, correct?" 

Kaoru nodded. "That's right, sir. Misao Makimachi was truly the 'Phantom Rogue', the greatest thief of this age, until her sudden disappearance."

Himura's violet eyes twinkled with open enthusiasm and triumph. "Kaoru, I do believe we've found our girl. We'll just have to extend an offer to Miss Makimachi that she can't refuse." They shared a smile with a hidden meaning, a secret joke between them. "Will you go personally?"

"Of course, Mr. Himura." She bowed her head, resting the file on his desk. "Shall I set up a meeting tomorrow, around lunch?"

"That would be perfect. You are the perfect secretary, Kaoru. Who hired you?"

Kaoru smiled. "You did, sir," she said as she left the room. Himura watched her go with a half smile of true appreciation, then he went back to the file on his desk. Sifting through papers, he came upon the photo of Misao Makimachi. 

"So this is the face of the Phantom Rogue..."

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Makimachi School of Dance--

"Good, Rebecca. Remember, keep your arms relaxed and your weight on your legs." 

Misao Makimachi walked among the eight girls who stood at the practice bars in her studio. These were teenagers, the advanced ballet class. Misao was particularly proud of this class, and enjoyed her instruction of them more than the other.

Misao was of an average height, around five feet four inches, with a trim and lithe figure. Her black leotard hugged a figure of little curve, but defined elegance and grace. Her hip-long black hair was held up in a loose bun, a few strands falling around to frame her oval face and contrasting her fair complexion. Ocean blue eyes surveyed the teenagers under her tutelage. 

Misao strolled among the girls, hands linked behind her back as she watched them move in sync with the _Waltz of the Flowers _playing from the stereo in the back of the room.

"Chin up, Lee," she paused to comment on one girl. "Don't look at your feet--"

"Feel them. Yes, Miss Makimachi," the girl smiled. 

Misao smiled back and moved to the next girl. The session was ending and Misao made her way over to the stereo, turning the music off and then facing her students. She clapped her hands and smiled at them. "You're all making wonderful progress. Each of you has such grace and potential, I'm sure that with a few more instructional lessons, all of you will be ready to join the New York Ballet Company."

All eight girls laughed, blushing prettily at the praise and then taking their bags into the main room where their rides home were waiting. Misao waved them off, grinning, and exchanged some friendly words with the parents. She avoided physical contact, but the older students and their families knew enough to avoid it.

Once the girls were all gone, Misao went back into the studio. She turned on a radio station, letting the calm music of Evanescence's _My Immortal_ flowed through the air of the room around her. Misao stretched out her legs, performing a few routine moves. Dance, although it was what put food on the table, would always be her second love. Her first would always be martial arts. 

Misao was a beautiful dancer that was once offered a scholarship to Julliard in New York, the most prestigious dance school in the United States. She turned it down, however. It interfered with her other commitments, she said. In truth, Misao didn't want to give up her other profession. 

It was hard to believe that polite, bookish Misao Makimachi was, in fact, the one whom the media deemed un-catch-able, the thief known as the Phantom Rogue. She just didn't have the air about her that would suggest that she did anything illegal in her life. Fact was, Misao had been a thief as long as she could remember. 

She had been orphaned long before she could care for herself, growing up in one abusive foster home after another. She ran away the first chance she got, and ended up on the streets for much of her childhood. When they caught her, they simply took her back. Misao had no rights, and was often deemed as the troublesome type. There was always one foster parent or another who thought they could beat the impulse from her--or be so smothering kind that she would magically stop running from them.

Her life changed at ten, when the social services people finally found a living relative: her mother's great uncle. His name was Okina, a kind but perverted old man who owned a restaurant in a New York. Misao had loved Okina to the best of her ability, which often took some work. Somewhere along the line, the two of them became a family. That was what killed Misao when Okina was murdered.

This time, at sixteen, she was left broken-hearted and alone in the streets. Misao had fought for her life, homeless and alone, for months. Her steps faltered as she thought back to her winter of sixteen years, and Misao stumbled. She gripped one of the bars to keep her balance.

"Careful Misao," a soft voice said from behind her. "You don't want to hurt yourself."

Misao was bolt upright at the sound. Her ocean eyes met a pair of pale green orbs staring back at her, the eyes of a person whom had seen thirty years of life. The eyes were set into a face of an unhealthily pale complexion framed by light brown hair. It was a feminine face, sharp angled and pretty. In fact, one could easily mistake the speaker as being a woman if not for the uncharacteristically flat chest and addition of an extra body part. He was tall, an inch below six feet, but he walked hunched over because of the pain in his chest. 

"Kamatari!" Misao exclaimed hurrying over to the man in the doorway. Kamatari was dressed simply in flannel pajamas and leaned against the doorframe of the room. Misao was at his side in a moment, pressing a cool palm to the side of his face. "Are you sure you should be up? You're looking so pale."

Kamatari smiled and took her hand in his own, pressing a gossamer kiss to her palm. "I feel fine Misao, truly."

"I don't like you walking around with no one around," she chided gently. "What happens if you fell?"

"I would have caught him," chirped a voice nearby. Misao looked over Kamatari's shoulder to see a smaller young man walking past them, his arms loaded up with computer equipment and a headset over his ears. "He asked to come downstairs, so I came with him. You worry too much, Sis."

"Oh, go tinker with something Soujiro," Misao laughed with a smile. The other man merely stuck his tongue out and walked past them both.

Soujiro was small, five-foot-six, but there was strength in his small size. His hair was unkempt and ruddy brown--he never did like to take care of his appearance. He watched them with gray eyes that could turn brown depending on his mood. Soujiro moved with as much grace as Misao, perhaps even more so, though he was not a dancer. Soujiro, at the age of twenty-five, was the closest person to Misao's age that she had ever known. 

"If you need anything, I'll be in the lab," he called to them and disappeared into the basement of the house.

Kamatari shook his head slowly, a smile spreading across his wan face. "He gets out less than I do," he commented wryly. 

Misao took Kamatari by the elbow and led him from the studio toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was located. "Would you like me to make you anything?" she asked him. "Soup, tea, anything you'd like to eat?"

"I'm fine Misao, really," he assured her. Worried ocean eyes turned up to him and Kamatari smiled reassuringly. 

"Humor me," she said.

"If I must."

"You do," she smiled. When they entered the kitchen, Misao deposited Kamatari on a seat at the table and then busied herself putting on a kettle of water and taking down two mugs. She fished around the cabinets until she came upon a box of cup o' noodles--chicken flavored. She prepared it and handed Kamatari a steaming mug. "Careful, it's hot," she warned.

"You're treating me like a child again Misao," Kamatari said with a smile. 

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I just don't want you pushing yourself. You're so pale today Kamatari."

The man sitting across from her with the wane face stared into her eyes for a long moment. Without noticing he was even moving, Misao suddenly found his hands on the side of her face, drawing her in. Their faces were only a hair's breath apart, and Misao felt that primitive jolt of fear in her very bones, but she ignored it. This was Kamatari, not some brainless man. He would never hurt her. She would not flinch. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Misao," Kamatari whispered. "I swear to you."

"I know," Misao breathed, closing her eyes. She soaked in the feel of Kamatari's presence. She knew she didn't have to be afraid. This man and his brother… they were her life. They were her family, and they had taken her in when no one else wanted her. When no one else cared. They gave her a life, a home, and love. They adopted her as their sister and raised her with their love.

"I have to admit, though, I love you fussing over me," he said with a lazy smile. "You're such an attentive nurse, my little bird." That was Kamatari's nickname for Misao. When he had first found her, she was scared and flighty, ready to take off at any sudden move. Kamatari always thought she looked like a little bird, ready to fly at the first opportunity.

Misao smiled that smile she only gave to Kamatari and Soujiro. They were the only people in the world she still had love for, so all of her affection and all of her heart poured over into them. Kamatari took his hands away, sipping idly at his mug, then he reached up and stroked Misao's cheek with the back of his hand.

"What would you have me do, Kamatari?" She asked, her ocean eyes filling with unshed tears.

Kamatari smiled again, and his face looked healthy for a moment. "I would have you smile again. I would have you laugh and dance around the house, like that beautiful ray of light that you always have been."

"Kamatari--" He silenced her with a thumb across her lips.

"I would have you and Soujiro bicker all day like two old women."

"Soujiro and I do bicker like two old women," she interrupted with a small grin. Kamatari added one of his own.

"There you go, little bird. I just want you to be as happy as you were before I got sick."

"But I am happy," Misao insisted. "I'm just worried."

"I don't want you to worry," Kamatari insisted. "I want you to go out, to have fun like any other woman your age. Find a man!"

"Kamatari," Misao sighed. "You know I don't want a man."

"Then you can at least find me one," he joked with a smile. Misao laughed and pressed her forehead against his.

"You're a shameless flirt."

"Don't I know it." 

They were interrupted when the bell in the studio office went off. Misao whirled around, getting to her feet. "One of the girls probably forgot something," she said as she left. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time Misao," Kamatari waved at her. 

Misao was surprised when she reached her front desk to find not one of her girls, but a woman in a business suit. In her hands, there was a black leather briefcase, and she wore a pair of glasses over her blue eyes. She hadn't yet noticed Misao's entrance, but was looking around the office like she was assessing something.

"Can I help you?" Misao asked.

The woman, startled out of her evaluation, snapped her bright eyes to meet Misao. A small smile graced her lips. "Misao Makimachi?"

"Yes?" Misao said, suddenly a little suspicious. It was rare for someone to ask for her by name.

"My name is Kaoru Kamiya," she said politely, reached out her hand to shake with Misao. Misao looked at it a moment.

"You'll have to forgive me," she explained. "My hands are filthy, I was making dinner."

"Of course," Kaoru said, taking her hand back without production. "I work at Himura Towers--"

"The publishing conglomerate?" Misao interrupted. Now she was interested, leaning forward slightly across her desk. Kaoru smiled wider.

"I'm glad you've heard of us." She fiddled with the handle of her briefcase. "Himura Towers is one of the largest publishing companies in the world. We manufacture everything from line-paper notebooks to manga to cookbooks and back again."

A corner of Misao's mouth quirked. "It must be great working around so many books."

"It has its moments," Kaoru agreed with a nod. "I, myself, am the personal secretary to the CEO of the company. It is on his behalf that I have come to make you an offer for your services."

Misao looked confused, her brow furrowed. "Your CEO wants me to teach him how to dance?"

Kaoru smirked, then giggled, then all out laughed at the thought. "No, no," she said after she regained control of herself. As it was, the image of her business-y boss in a pink tutu would haunt her for days. It was well worth it. "We want to employ your other _services_."

"What other services?" Misao asked, but she already felt the call in the pit of her stomach. The call of the Phantom Rogue.

Kaoru smiled. "Misao Makimachi," she leaned closer to whisper the rest, "otherwise known as the infamous Phantom Rogue, I am here to make you an offer."

Misao's eyes widen and she backed up a fraction. She was saved from reply by a voice behind her.

"Misao?" It was Kamatari, who'd come from the kitchen at the sound of the voices. The girl turned to look at her brother with concealed eyes. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes, everything's fine, Kamatari," she assured him. "But you should be sitting down."

"Yes Mother," he grumbled. Then she looked past Misao to Kaoru. "Would you care to join us?"

"Oh, that would be lovely," Kaoru said, coming around the side of the desk and following after Misao and Kamatari into the kitchen. Misao eyed Kaoru from the corner of her eye, praying that the woman wouldn't mention any Phantom Rogue nonsense around her brother. That was when she became rather fearful. Was this some kind of a trap? Would they use her to steal things under pain of revealing her true identity? 

After they were seated, Misao fetched a third cup and tea was served. There was silence for a minute, until Kamatari initiated conversation. "I'm sorry for the lack of introduction. I'm Kamatari Seta."

"Kaoru Kamiya," she said with a smile, shaking his offered hand.

"We have another brother around here somewhere," Kamatari commented. "But I doubt Soujiro will come out of his hole for tea."

"It's quite all right," Kaoru said with a smile. "My real business is with your sister." Misao sat rigidly in her chair, full of stress and anxiety. "I'm not here to blackmail you into anything," Kaoru said as if reading Misao's thoughts. "This is a legitimate business arrangement."

"What do you want?" Misao asked.

"I am simply here to arrange a meeting between you and my employer. Once there, he will answer any and all of your questions."

"Just who is your employer?" Kamatari asked. He was not ignorant to what was going on. Misao had, in the past two years, been offered jobs of theft. They always went through to Soujiro since, everyone believed that Phantom Rouge was a man. Now this smartly dressed woman came and offered Misao--the true Rogue--and offer of business. Things were about to get interesting.

"Mister Kenshin Himura." She smiled, totally unfazed when the jaws of both Kamatari and Misao dropped in astonishment.

"_The_ Kenshin Himura?" Kamatari asked.

"The _billionaire_?" Misao added.

"Yes," Kaoru said calmly, but not without a certain air of mystery. "Mr. Himura really would love to meet with you, Miss Makimachi. I was told to arrange a meeting, tomorrow at noon, at Himura Towers." She opened her briefcase and dug out a business card, handing it over to Misao. "Come to this address at twelve o'clock. Give it to the guard at the front desk and he'll let you in."

"What do you want with me?" Misao asked, narrowing her ocean eyes at Kaoru and then the business card.

"Like I said, Miss Makimachi, this is a business offer. Mr. Himura will brief you on everything tomorrow at noon. If you turn us down, you are free to go. If you'd like to take us up, you'd be well compensated."

"Can I bring my team?" Misao asked. A question that was posed with any business meeting of the Phantom Rogue's. 

"Of course," Kaoru said with a smile. She got to her feet, finishing her tea, and then said her goodbyes. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Seta, Miss Makimachi. I hope to see you tomorrow. Remember, at noon."

Misao walked her out, and when she came back, she nervously began cleaning up. Kamatari watched her with pale eyes. "You know, she realized I was a man," he commented.

Misao turned and smirked. "She knew who I was, I doubt it was hard to look up _your_ file, dearest one." They shared a smile that was interrupted when Soujiro walked in. He was covered in grease and there were goggles over his eyes. He was also absent of a shirt as he reached into the fridge, pulled out the carton of milk, and began to drain it right there. 

"Soujiro!" they both yelled. He jumped, spilling some of the milk on himself.

"What?!" he yelled back, annoyed.

"That's disgusting," Misao scolded, grabbing the milk from him. There was barely any left so she just shoved the carton at him again. "Go ahead and finish it. I'll have to run out and get more later."

Soujiro shrugged and finished it up, tossing it into the garbage can like a professional basketball player. "Two points," he cheered, then turned to the others. "What did I miss? You both look tense."

"Misao was offered a business arrangement," Kamatari commented. 

"A Rogue assignment?" he asked, taking the goggled from his silver-gray eyes. 

"Yeah," Misao said sourly. "She knew who I was."

"Is that a good thing?" he asked, sitting in a free chair. "Or a bad thing?"

"I don't know," Misao said while shaking her head. "She wants us to meet with her boss tomorrow for a briefing of the situation and the offer. Get this, it's Kenshin Himura."

Soujiro's eyes widen considerably. "You're shitting me?"

"No, little brother," Kamatari said with a tired sigh. "This is the real deal."

"But he's like…one of the richest guys on the planet! Bill Gates is a crack whore compared to this guy! Can't he just buy whatever he wants? Why hire a thief?"

"I guess whatever he wants is beyond money," Misao commented thoughtfully.

Soujiro looked from Misao to Kamatari and back. "So then we're taking it, right? He's a billionaire for Christ sake! He could pay us…anything we want!"

"Don't get too excited," Kamatari told him. "We still don't know what he wants us to steal. For all we know, this could be a test of some kind. Or a trick."

Misao shook her head while leaning over the sink. "If he pays enough, I'll do whatever he wants," she said in a deadpan voice.

"Misao," Kamatari--ever the older sibling--scolded her. "If it endangers your life beyond reasonable doubt, I won't let you anywhere near it." 

Soujiro nodded his agreement. "Yeah Misao, we can't have you getting killed yet! I mean, who would cook me dinner every night?"

Misao narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "You're retarded."

Soujiro smiled. "You know that you love me."

"Not when you're that greasy," she retorted. "Go take a shower, for the love of God." He smiled and did as he was told. Once that was taken care of, Misao went to Kamatari. He looked even paler than before, and much more tired. "Come on Kamatari, I'll take you back to bed. You should rest."

"Thank you, Misao," he said quietly. Misao helped him back to his room upstairs and brought him dinner later. However, her menial tasks no longer held the simple joy that little wonder Misao always felt at living a normal life. Now, her mind was occupied with thoughts of a job. 

Once more, Misao Makimachi had become the Phantom Rogue.

On the street, Kaoru pulled out her cell phone and punched a number in from memory. Placing it to her ear, it rang twice before it was answered.

"Kaoru," spoke Kenshin Himura. "How did it go?"

"She'll be there," Kaoru said with certainty.

"How can you be sure?"

"I saw her brother."


	2. Chapter 2: “I Feel Too Small”

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A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed--I'll get to responses in a moment. I's just like to take this opportunity to rave about the skills of my awesome beta reader. She's very fast with the editing, so everyone say thanks to **Cattykit**. She's doing a fabulous job and all I can do is grovel at her feet and thank her because I have been searching for an editor!

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Kenta Divina: I'm glad you are interested in the story. Here is the second part. Expect the third sometime in the next week or so. Thanks for reading!

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gaby (hyatt: I really can't take credit for the idea--it was all cooked up in the brain of my imaginative co-author who is writing too many stories right now to post it under her own name. But I did help with the details and the characters! Anywho, thanks for the review!

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tesuka-chan: I must admit that after reading your review, I rushed off to read you fic and hope that we didn't unintentionally copy anything. Truth be told, the original idea was to make this an Inuyasha fic since I am more comfortable with that story--but my co-author told me that it would be an amazing Aoshi/Misao. I did read your story and I think it's awesome! There may be a few similarities between our tales, but our plot has a lot of differences, as you said, especially considering in our fic, Aoshi and Misao have never met. I apologize in advance for any scenes or plot devices that may seem taken from your story--the idea and outline for this story was written back in February, we've only just now begun to write it, so please don't think we copied!

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kakashi-fan: Misao and Aoshi will meet in chapter 3, so get ready! I just introduced Aoshi now, at the end of this chapter, but he plays a much bigger part in the next chapter, so never fear! Thanks for the review!

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miz: I'm glad we hooked your interest into our story! I always feel more comfortable writing a story in female perspective so the majority of Misao will be written by me. I find her character to have a lot of depth and genuine spirit. I love that! As for her brothers--Jess and I both agree that Soujiro is an incredibly awesome character and a great friend for Misao so he was an automatic--Soujiro and Kamatari seemed to fit pretty well. Kamatari was a hard decision, but the two best of the Jupongattana seem the likeliest of foster families for Misao. Thanks for the review!

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Tiian: As a warning, much of the story will appear to be OOC to die-hard readers. The basis of these characters are from mine and my co-author's perception of the spirit of the character. They won't be running around trying to save the Meji government or trying to get Kenshin away from his reverse-blade sword. This is a story, told like any other, but it just happens to use the characters of a well-loved show in a new environment. Because of this new environment, expect adaptations of the characters. Soujiro was never used by Shishio in this story as he was in the real story, so there will be changes in him in that respect. Kaoru is also a little more subdued because I hate when she gets all hot-and-bothered over nothing. It makes her character into an immature child. I'm glad you are intrigued and I hope you don't think I'm lecturing! Enjoy the chapter.

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allin656: I'm very happy that you are interested in the story. This will be an interesting one, I guarantee it, so stick around. Here's another chapter, expect the next soon. Enjoy!

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Indigochipmunk: Aoshi/Misao is our favorite Kenshin couple too. That's why we decided to make it about them--me being fresh off my popular Inuyasha fic and Jess, my co-author, on an Aoshi/Misao fic. I hope you like this chapter!

Safer On The Outside

Chapter 2: _"I Feel Too Small"_

Himura Towers--

Soujiro whistled low in his throat as he looked the building up and down. The skyscraper was made nearly entirely of mirrored glass. There was huge lettering written vertically down the side, reading _Himura Towers_. There was no mistaking the address. 

"Looks like the place," Misao said, pulling the sunglasses from her eyes. "Are we on time?"

Soujiro looked at his wrist--the one adorned with three different watches. "Yeah, it's five minutes 'til noon."

"Then let's go meet, Mr. Himura," Misao said with a sly grin. 

Since they were meeting a potential client, Misao thought they should look the part. She was dressed smartly, in a strapless black dress that fell halfway down her calves. She also wore a black mesh duster, tied across her chest. Her long black hair was plaited down her back, straight to her hips. You can take the girl out of the streets, but you can't take the streets out of the girl--Misao still wore her sneakers.

Soujiro was plainer dressed, in a buttoned up flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and a pair of black jeans. He was no longer covered in grease, but his hair was still shaggy and his goggles still hung around his neck.

Kamatari had insisted he come along, no matter how much Misao had protested. He could walk short distances around the house, but on such an excursion, Misao brought out his wheelchair. He was dressed formally, like Misao, in a billowy white shirt, a lime green vest, and navy blue pants. His light hair was elegantly styled around his face, giving him a serious look despite his sickly complexion.

To the casual observer, the woman and two men looked like the normal people who would enter Himura Towers on a call for business. Misao wheeled Kamatari inside while Soujiro held the doors for them. It was Misao who approached the guard desk, her card at the ready.

"Excuse me," she said as politely as she could. Misao had never been that big of a people person. The guard looked her up and down with distaste while sucking on his teeth, making a small hissing sound. Misao bristled. "Miss Kaoru Kamiya told me to give this to the guard at the front desk. We have a meeting arrangement." With that, Misao slammed the card on to the desk and took a step back.

The guard's entire demeanor changed abruptly. "Oh, pardon me miss," he said while bowing his head. "I didn't realize, you see. If Ms. Kamiya is expecting you, by all means, you're welcome here. Just let me call Yahiko and he'll take you right up."

Misao turned to Kamatari and Soujiro with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile. Soujiro took his hands out of his pockets long enough to give her a double thumbs up. Kamatari whacked him in the stomach, then signaled to wheel him over to Misao. That was when a young man, no more than twenty, came up to her. His hair was dark and cropped, sticking out at several angles unintentionally. His eyes were a pale brown and his skin was a light bronze. 

"I'm Yahiko Myogin," he said with a smile, offering her his hand. "I'm Ms. Kamiya's assistant. She's expecting you on the top floor." Misao smiled and nodded, ignoring his hand. Yahiko took it back, looking a little put out. "If you'll follow me, we'll take the express elevator."

"Lead the way," Misao said politely. Kamatari and Soujiro were right behind her as she followed Yahiko to a small elevator, then inside it as he pressed a small blue button at the bottom of the panel. Misao reached over and took Kamatari's hand, knowing the man's claustrophobia problem. He hated any space that made him feel like he couldn't escape easily. 

Misao had butterflies in her stomach as the elevator stopped on the top floor and everyone exited. The room they entered was large, but sparsely furnished. Kaoru Kamiya sat behind a large marble desk at the far corner, near a pair of frost glassed doors. She looked up when the elevator opened, a smile widening on her face when she noticed who had arrived, and quickly hurried over.

"Miss Makimachi, Mr. Seta, welcome to Himura Towers," she said warmly, shaking Soujiro and Kamatari's hands, but making no move to Misao. The younger woman was a bit miffed. Not at the lack of gesture, but the fact that she didn't offer her hand meant that she had read all of Misao's file.

"Thank you for the welcome," Kamatari said politely in response. 

Kaoru smiled in return, then turned to Yahiko. "You can go now, Yahiko." The young man grumbled under his breath as he got back on the elevator and hit the button. Kaoru rolled her eyes, adjusting her glasses as she turned back to the three people still waiting. She smiled tiredly. "Follow me, Mr. Himura has been waiting for you."

They followed her through the glass door and into an office even bigger than the waiting room. It was dimly lit, and held a simple taste, but Misao took an immediate like to the place. A man with bright red hair sat casually behind a large mahogany desk. He seemed to be reading something important because he held up a hand from a moment before looking up. When he did, he snapped the file shut and got to his feet, coming around the desk to meet them. 

"Ah, you must be Misao Makimachi," he said with a grin.

"Yes," Misao said in response, humoring him with a smile. He was about to shake her hand, but stopped himself. Misao didn't comment. Instead, she turned to the two men following her. "I brought my team with me, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," he responded.

"This is Soujiro Seta," she said as Soujiro stepped forward and shook the redhead's hand. "And this is Kamatari Seta," she said proudly, indicating the wheelchair bound man. 

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," he said cheerfully after shaking Kamatari's hand. "I am Kenshin Himura, and this is my office."

"So we've gathered," Misao said kindly. "I do not wish to be impolite Mr. Himura, but I was hoping we could skip formality and get to what you wanted with us."

For a moment, Kenshin only blinked at the young woman with a forceful attitude. The Seta brothers both smirked proudly at her. Misao was always assertive, even if it was with billionaires. "The answer is simple, Miss Makimachi," he said once regaining his balance. "I wish to hire you."

Kenshin walked back to his desk, taking a seat and offering the two open chairs in front of him to Misao and Soujiro. Kamatari sat between them and Kaoru returned to her desk outside. "You wish to hire the Phantom Rogue," Misao corrected. "But she retired two years ago."

"I was hoping to bring her out of retirement for one last mission," Kenshin said with a sigh. "She would receive a handsome reward sum, if she would be so kind as to get me what I need."

Kamatari, who had always been the one to arrange prices and meet with the clients, took charge of the meeting. "First things first, Mr. Himura," he said calmly. "What is it that you want Misao to steal?"

Kenshin smiled grimly and nodded. "I don't suppose you've ever heard of Lidan Kaito?"

"The sword maker?" Misao asked, blinking in surprise.

"Ah, so you have heard of him," Kenshin said with a smile.

"Lidan Kaito was considered to be the greatest sword smith of all time," Soujiro interrupted. All eyes were on him. "He was half Japanese and half Irish, one who learned the craft of creating both the European broadsword and the Japanese katana."

"But all of his works were destroyed," Misao inserted, "during the wars. All that's left are artworks, cast molds. None of the actual blades survived."

"That is where you are mistaken, Miss Makimachi," Kenshin said with a determined smile. There was eagerness alight in his violet eyes as he passed a file to her from his desk. Misao opened it on her lap and four glossy photographs met her eyes. Picking them up and passing them to her brothers, she noticed they were of four old, but well kept, swords.

"Are you telling us that you've discovered four of Kaito's blades?" Soujiro asked in amazement.

"Actually," Kenshin corrected. "There are five. A set. They were rumored to be Kaito's greatest creations, his Lost Swords, if you will. There is great myth surrounding them. It's said that if all swords are gathered, they can summon mystical forces and call upon ancient magicks long asleep. So far, we've only been able to track down four of the five swords."

"They can't be from the same set," Soujiro pointed out. "Two are broadswords and the others are katana."

"Look at the hilts," Misao pointed out. "They all carry the same design. They are a set, all created by the same artist, if they are authentic."

"They are," Kenshin assured them. "I had them appraised personally."

"The Lost Swords of Kaito," Misao breathed. "If they are publicly announced, there is no way any thief could get at them."

"Which is precisely the reason I want you to get at them now, before they are made public," Kenshin interrupted her revelry. 

"You say there are five," Kamatari spoke up. "But you only have the location of four. How do you know the other one survived?"

Kenshin's eyes darkened a fraction and the line of his jaw was set. "A business rival of mine, Makoto Shishio, has seen the fifth sword, before it went missing again. He also has the location of the other four."

Misao's bright eyes suddenly perked. "You want to get them first," she challenged, daring him to tell her otherwise. 

"Exactly," he admitted freely. "I needed the best, to counter Shishio's men. So I went to the Phantom Rogue."

Misao smiled crookedly. "You came to me, even once you found out I was a woman?"

"Gender means nothing, Miss Makimachi," Kenshin said honestly. "I care only for skill."

"So," Kamatari interrupted. "You came looking for us once you found out about the swords?"

"When I first learned of Shishio's interest in Kaito's work, I thought it was simple admiration," Kenshin explained, leaning back in his chair. "Then I learned that he began searching for the Lost Swords. It was a divine set created by Kaito after he had vowed never to make another sword. It is said that an angel came to him in a vision and told him how to forge the swords. Two katana, two broadswords, the fifth a combination of both styles, a tribute to his heritage."

"And you believe in this mystical nonsense?" Misao scoffed.

Kenshin looked at her with very serious violet eyes. "When you've seen the things that I have seen, Miss Makimachi, you tend to believe in things."

Misao met his gaze unflinchingly. "When you have seen the things that I have seen, Mr. Himura, you tend to believe in what you can see." 

He smiled suddenly. "Touché."

"This is all well and good," Soujiro interrupted. "But what about the swords? And the missing one?"

Kenshin nodded, getting back on track. "I learned earlier this week that Shishio hired a professional thief, and a very skilled one at that, to steal for him the swords he had been able to track down. I have been trying to find someone who could best his thief, and so far, the only name I could come across was yours, Miss Makimachi."

Misao looked nervous for a moment. "Your secretary said that if I turned you down, nothing would happen to me," she said with a dry mouth. "If I refuse, you wouldn't expose me, would you?"

Kenshin shook his head. "I assure you, this is confidential and optional." She looked a little more reassured, until Kamatari butted in.

"I don't think we're interested, Mr. Himura."

Kenshin looked a little upset, the veins in his forehead twitching slightly, but he nodded curtly. "As I said, the decision is yours."

"Just…out of curiosity," Soujiro said suddenly. "For stealing the two swords, how much are we talking?"

Kenshin smirked. To catch a thief, just dangle good enough bait. "I will give you $500,000 cash, upfront. Another $1,000,000 on delivery of each sword. And if you can find the fifth along the way, I'll give you another million."

Misao reached out and grabbed Kamatari's hand tightly. He returned her grip with one as equally strong. Everyone in the room was silent. One of Soujiro's eyes twitched. Talk of so much money always made him daydream of all the parts and electronics he could by to tinker with in his lab.

"I'll do it," Misao said suddenly. Kenshin blinked, a smile spreading across his face.

"Misao, no," Kamatari blurted. She looked over at her brother with a sad smile.

"I'll do it, Mr. Himura," she said while still looking into Kamatari's pale green eyes.

"Fabulous," he said happily. "Everything you need to know about the swords, their locations and security, are in these files," he explained, handing them to Soujiro.

The younger Seta brother flipped through a few of the pages, skimming information, a frown etched across his face. "Um, Mr. Himura?"

"Yes?"

"How is it that you know the location of the swords -- and this Shishio character does as well -- but neither of you know where the fifth one is?" This sparked an interest in all three thieves as they turned their attention to Kenshin. He looked rather thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, that's the strange part. When I began having my people seek out the swords as well, we received anonymous information regarding the four blades including their locations, their owners; that's when I sent my people to investigate. It seems that Shishio also received information, from the very same source. At an attempt to track down the benefactor, we found nothing. A ghost. As far as I know, neither of us have been able to track down the person who sent them, or the location of the missing fifth sword."

"So I expect you want Misao to steal the information from them, then? To stop their little coup." Kamatari said rather tightly.

"No," Kenshin said quickly. "I would not ask anyone, no matter how skilled a thief, to attempt thieving from Shishio. That would be suicide. I am only asking she retrieve for me those swords that she can find, before Shishio's man."

"I take it that you will be paying for our expenses?" Kamatari voiced, looking at some of the locations that they'd have to journey to. He was always a man to focus on the business, and not be taken in by the flattery of clients. 

"Naturally," Kenshin said with an easy smile. Kamatari returned it. They shared a looked of businessmen to which money meant little, but the ends were priceless. What did Kenshin care if he had to buy a few plane tickets? He was a billionaire after all. "I also take it that you'll be accompanying them, Mr. Seta?"

Kamatari stiffened a little at the implication of being helpless. He may have been banished to a wheelchair by his overprotective siblings, but his mind was still as clear as ever. If his brother and sister were once more on active duty, there was no way in hell that he'd be left behind. "Naturally," he said calmly.

Misao frowned a little. "Kamatari--"

"It's quite all right, Miss Makimachi," Kenshin said with a smile. "It will all be taken care of." She was about to protest more when Soujiro interrupted. He was still flipping through some of the papers when his head came up again. 

"It says in these files that we would need to use equipment that we don't have." He looked a little red, but continued through. "Most of our equipment was sold or destroyed after Misao retired."

Kenshin smiled. "That is not a problem either. Now that you have agreed to work for me, Miss Makimachi, I hope you wouldn't object to a few new members added to your team." He got to his feet and pressed down on his speaker button. "Kaoru, please send them in."

"Right away, sir," she replied, and the frost glass doors opened behind them. All three thieves swiveled around to see who was coming in. 

The first one they noticed was a tall man dressed causally in white and red. Around his forehead was a red headband and his dark brown hair was spiked, making him look extremely out of place in this suit-and-tie business atmosphere. He was tall, perhaps a little taller than Kamatari, but the hair made him look even bigger. A pair of reading glasses hung from the pocket of his jacket and his dark brown eyes sparkled with a mischief that Misao found infectious.

"This is Mr. Sanosuke Sagara," Kenshin said formally, coming to stand beside him. "He's our resident researcher and hacker. If there is anything you need to know, anything you need to find out, Sanosuke can find it for you." 

Sanosuke smirked. Soujiro shook his hand politely and felt a little intimidated by the height of the man, as well as the strength of his handshake. Although height didn't matter much in a contest of strength, Soujiro always felt self-conscious when confronted with a tall adversary. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Sanosuke said in turn. He then shook with Kamatari, who gave him a sort of predatory smile that made even the strongest straight guy feel nervous, and then went to Misao. 

She blushed a little as she looked at his hand. "Nothing personal," she said at last. "I just don't like to be touched."

Sanosuke shrugged. "Whatever."

The next person to enter was a woman. She was taller than Misao, even taller than Kaoru had been, with a long fall of silky black hair that was unadorned. Her eyes, dark and beautiful, took in everything around in her the space of a few moments. She was dressed plainly, but the beauty and decorum of her person blazed despite the lack of high fashion. She had a cat-like grace and Misao would be lax in her skills if she didn't notice the foxy air the woman carried in her step. She decided that she liked the woman right then--this was a woman who could handle herself around intimidating men folk.

"Ah," Kenshin said when she entered, happily taking her hand. "This is Dr. Megumi Takani," Kenshin introduced. "She's my personal physician. Well versed in many fields of medicine, I might add. Megumi will be on call to you twenty-four hours a day, Mr. Seta."

Misao grinned in delighted surprise and looked to Kamatari, who wore a small smile despite the shock in his eyes. "Well, that's certainly fortunate, isn't it?" He commented. "I may have to work you pretty hard, Dr. Takani."

She smiled in a sort of amused manner. "I expected no less."

Misao chuckled. She looked to Soujiro and Kamatari. "I like her."

After another round of greetings, and a blushing turned-down handshake by Misao, the doors opened one more time, admitting two people. Misao had to blink twice. Kaoru and Yahiko walked in together, devoid of business suit and instead donning causal clothes that one would use while training martial arts. 

"And finally," Kenshin said with a grin. "Kaoru and Yahiko, who will be helping you train Misao."

"I thought you were a secretary," Misao said pointedly at Kaoru. The pretty secretary blushed momentarily but then held her head up.

"I _am_ a secretary," she said calmly. "But I also own and operate a kendo swordsmanship school."

"I'm impressed," the younger girl said with a smile. Kaoru returned it. That was when Yahiko cleared his throat.

"Oh, and Yahiko will act as runner," Kaoru explained. "He's my star apprentice, and can be privy to any information that has to return to Mr. Himura mid-mission."

"You aren't accompanying us?" Kamatari asked, looking to the redheaded billionaire. He looked disappointed.

"Unfortunately no," he sighed. "I have a business to run, and can't up and leave for field work, which is why I'm entrusting you with my best people."

"We'll take good care of them," Misao assured him, getting to her feet. "When do we leave?"

"Immediately," Kenshin said, returning to his desk. "I was informed that Shishio's new pet left this morning for the first sword, located in a private collection in London. I need the team assembled and ready to depart tonight."

"Tonight?" Soujiro exclaimed. "Can't it wait 'til morning?"

"I'm afraid not," Kaoru interrupted, shaking her head. "We have to catch a plane by nine."

"I'll have to call my students and cancel business for a few weeks," Misao said rationally. "What excuse can I use?"

"Say you're getting married," Kamatari joked. "By the time you get back, they'll still be too stunned to realize it was a lie."

"Shut up," Misao muttered, reddening in front of so many strangers. Kamatari and Soujiro only grinned at her annoyance. "We should go back to the school and pack," she said assertively, gripping the handles of Kamatari's wheelchair. "We'll meet you back here at seven?"

"That sounds good," Kaoru said with a smile. "We'll have transportation to the airport waiting." After that, they parted ways. Misao and her brothers returned to their home in a cloud of anxiety and excitement, preparing for one last great mission.

As for the rest of the team, they went about their separate ways, preparing themselves and their equipment for this rather unusual job. Megumi, stayed behind in Kenshin's office, looking a little unnerved. When the others had departed, she sat in the chair Misao had been occupying earlier and waited for Kenshin to address her. 

"You seem a little upset Megumi," he said once he noticed she did not plan on leaving any time soon--without answers at least.

"I have a few doubts about this, sir," she voiced calmly. 

"By all means, share."

"That girl, Misao Makimachi, do you really think she's capable of something this important? She's a _dance teacher_, for God's sake."

"Don't worry Megumi," he assured her with a smile. "We'll be sure to test Misao's skill thoroughly before putting her in the field."

The doctor was silent for a moment. "I also read her file, the one you sent to me." He nodded, prompting her to continue. "She suffers from aphephobia."

"So she's afraid of being touched," Kenshin said flippantly. "Everyone has a quirk."

"This is a little more serious than a quirk," Megumi insisted. "It might affect her job."

"Megumi," Kenshin said firmly. "She's had aphephobia for eight years. It didn't affect her job then."

The doctor fell silent once more, slowly getting to her feet. "I just wanted you to know my hesitations, that's all."

"I thank you for them," he said sincerely. "By the way," he voiced as she made to go. "Did you look over the other file? The one for Kamatari Seta?"

"Yes," she said, pausing in her exit.

"And?"

"It's as you and Kaoru thought. Severe heart disease. He had an operation ten years ago that has deteriorated in the past three years. He's currently on a waiting list for a transplant, but with his rare blood type and added genetic trait, there hasn't been a donor yet."

"In your professional opinion," he said seriously. "How long would you give him?"

"A year, maybe a little less," she responded in a low voice. "Without the transplant, it's just a matter of time."

_London Terrace Apartments--_

A man sat on a bed devoid of any covering with the exception of a pillow and a white sheet, absently tapping at a laptop that was connected to the extension in the wall. The color scheme of the laptop's monitor reflected colors on to the man's pale face, but he just continued tapping. He was searching for something on the web, and had been searching all day. It was well into the night, but he hadn't stopped to drink or eat in hours. He was on a mission.

Crystalline eyes moved rapidly over the monitor, taking in every fast-flashing web page of information, searching for his objective without relent. Raven black hair hung in disarray across his forehead, long bangs falling into his eyes, but he paid it no mind. He sat Indian style on the bed, a tall form hunching over the small computer with perfect poise. He was frozen in that position as he worked, and nothing could move him from it, save one thing. 

There was a cell phone sitting on the bed next to him, the screen flashing neon-green lettering on the tiny window a second before it began to ring. The tune was that of a song--the melody of The Who's _Behind Blue Eyes _filled the tiny room. The man, never taking his eyes from the screen of his laptop, reached over and flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear.

"Yes?" he intoned in a voice tinged with disinterest.

"Shinomori," a deep, confident voice said from the other end. "How is everything going?"

"Splendid," the man called Shinomori said with heavy sarcasm. "It would go even better if you stopped checking in and letting me do my job."

There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone. "You know, I've had men killed for less than the insult you just gave me," he said casually. "But I put up with you for two reasons."

"What are those?" Shinomori questioned, not really paying attention. His free hand flew across the keypad, clicking at sidebars and continuing his search with purpose.

"The most important reason is simple, you're the best." Shinomori smirked to himself. "And the other is, I like you."

"I'm honored," he commented with the same sarcasm as before. The man on the other end of the phone chuckled again.

"I'm happy that you are. I'll let you get back to your work."

"Thank you."

"Oh Aoshi, one more thing."

Resisting the urge to close the phone anyway, Aoshi Shinomori relented and replied, "Yes, Mr. Shishio?"

"I was given word today that that idiot Himura has sent a team out to retrieve the swords you're currently on assignment for. Be a good little boy and get them for me before he does." With that, Shishio hung up and Aoshi snapped his phone shut with added annoyance.

Just once, he wished he could tell that guy off. Maybe come out with a well executed 'Bite me'. Alas, as long as he was under the thumb of that idiot, Aoshi had no choice but to follow his edict to the word, exactly, with no mistakes. His irritation abated, Aoshi went back to the subject at hand. 

Shishio was never a man to keep his subordinates well informed. All the information he gave was the location of his targets and a free cash flow he needed to make the theft happen. In a span of three days, he found himself hauled off the street, brought to an office, and then put on a plane for Europe. 

None of his other clients had ever been so forceful. Then again, none of his other clients had ever been Makoto Shishio. That said a lot. Once more, the man had interrupted his system of working at his leisure. Aoshi was now forced to cross-reference. 

At first, he had been focused on the first of four legendary swords, and the mysterious fifth sword. He had been pretty prepared to take it out too, but then Shishio had called to inform him that his business rival, Kenshin Himura, had been given information regarding the self-same swords, the ones only they had information on. Now, while Aoshi had been in the midst of researching the whereabouts of the final sword, his client calls and tells him to steal information off of a team of thieves.

Where was the end to this insanity?

The end was not likely in sight, so Aoshi swallowed his pride once more and began referencing recent expenses taken from the Himura Towers financial accounts. Aoshi was sure that whomever Himura hired had already gotten paid, or was at least being funded for this endeavor. Find the hired thieves, find the target. The computer stopped its random flashing when a set of seven personal files were flagged from the Himura Towers mainframe as just receiving funds.

He clicked off several of the files--Himura's personal physician, his head of the research department, his personal secretary and her assistant--but stopped to study the three files left. The first two were of Kamatari and Soujiro Seta, a pair of brothers who owned stock in an independent studio of the arts. Soujiro Seta was also the owner of an underground robots ring. He seemed to be a part-time inventor as well, and a lot of his work put up advanced firewalls when Aoshi tried to access further. There was only one conclusion here; these two had to be doing something that they didn't want anyone else to see.

Aoshi smirked to himself. He had found his thieves. That was when, just for fun, he clicked on to the unopened file. He was immediately assaulted by an access code that took him a quarter of an hour to fully pull down. Perhaps he had been too quick in judging his thieves properly. It was then, when he was able to freely access part of the file kept on Misao Makimachi. 

Eye narrowed, Aoshi read over the file. There didn't seem to be anything worth protecting on this file. All it said was a brief back history on the girl, approximate age and personal stats. She was a dance teacher--why had her file been so protected? Then he noticed something about the photograph in the file. It showed a normal woman in her early twenties, standing absently in front of a studio. What drew Aoshi's eye was the small kunai that was almost hidden in her hand.

Kunai. A female. The intent security of the file. Now his interest was peaked and Aoshi did a few random searches on his laptop, pulling out any information on a female thief with an affinity toward kunai and daggers. He was assaulted with hundreds of minor files of crazies who used them for small robberies or assaults. What caught his eye was an exposé in a New York newspaper from two years earlier--a theory created by a top-ranking detective on the force who said that the infamous Phantom Rogue was actually female.

Aoshi racked his brain. He had remembered the gossip and publicity surrounding a thief called Phantom Rogue. He was a clever one who had evaded capture for nigh five years until a sudden disappearance about two years ago. 

"Hello," Aoshi said with a smirk, clicking back over to the files. _Misao Makimachi_, he read, burning the name into his mind for later use. "I've got you."

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A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading. Please remember to review! Also, please check out my co-author's other Aoshi/Misao AU. _Riffs & Canvas_ by **Jesse the Wolf Demon**. Thanks a lot for all the support!


	3. Chapter 3: “Something’s Gonna Burn”

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A/N: Okay, Chapter 3! Sorry for the delay in the updating--my co-author and I hit a busy patch. Hopefully we'll be able to get the next chapter out faster. A few reviewer responses and then on to the chapter!

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kakashi-fan: Well, here is the first meeting of our turbulent pair. It's a little rough, but first impressions aren't everything after all. There will be more wondrous action in the next chapter so hole on to your socks. And no fair finding out my plot devices before everyone else! That's cheating!

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Tiian: I'm happy that you liked the ending. I too, enjoyed that little scene. Thanks for the free-range of the characters, I hope we portray them well. I try to keep our writing serious--my co-author enjoys a bit of sarcastic humor and enjoys darkening certain aspects of the characters in which you will see later on--but I try to keep it fresh. And yes, Kaoru is immature--with no reason t be. Misao is also immature sometimes, but you can understand and love her for it.

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tesuka-chan: I'm so very happy that you approve and like our story! *beams* You make me blush with your compliments. My co-author came up with that actually. She's very much into the back story of our characters and the past she has for Misao is very dark. I believe her exact words were 'Misao's past builds a lot of character for her, gives her her greatest strength but at the same time, is her greatest weakness'. I loved that, so all of our characters have a quirk or two, courtesy of Jesse-chan. There is just something so mysterious about thieves, so seductive, you can't help but love reading and writing about them! 

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gaby (hyatt: Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any songs by the band Sugarcult or the band American Hi-Fi.

Safer On The Outside

Chapter 3: _"Something's Gonna Burn"_

Misao wasn't speaking to her brothers. 

Upon returning home to the studio, Misao went about packing for the three of them. She even went so far as to break out her old Phantom Rogue gear. Nostalgia was a big factor in making her take along the black body suit, but why fight it? Soujiro went down to the lab, taking what was salvageable of their old gear and some of his newer inventions. The job of calling Misao's students and canceling class for the next six weeks fell onto Kamatari, who took up the roster of phone numbers with ease. The one problem with that, however, was the excuses he deemed worthy to be given to Misao's customers. Ranging from Misao's sudden marriage to a death of a mysterious old relative who left Misao a fortune in cows out west, Kamatari's imagination had a field day--at Misao's expense, of course.

Soujiro had encouraged, and even given ideas when he was moving up and down between ground floor and the laboratory basement. When Misao found out what they were up to, she was rightfully furious. Consequently, she wasn't speaking to them. Even though she packed both their suitcases and made sure they were both set for the journey, she remained adamantly silent. A typical sibling punishment.

Nevertheless, it made Kaoru and Yahiko--the two escorts of the three thieves to the private Himura jet--very uncomfortable. After several failed attempts at conversation, the two simply gave up and the entire limo was quiet for the ride to the private airstrip. Misao stared placidly out of the window, watching as they left the interior of the city behind. Soujiro was fiddling with a gadget in his lap, while Kamatari had his headphones on, listening to the soothing sounds of a Bach concerto. 

When they reached the airstrip, a medium sized plane was already waiting for them, gassed up and ready for take off. The rest of their team, as well as a pilot and co-pilot, were already on board and ready to head to their first location. 

"Well, glad you could join us," Sanosuke drawled when they all climbed aboard. He was lounging happily in a chair, watching them all in a lazy fashion. 

Megumi shot him a look of pure scorn, kicking his feet from where they had been resting in the chair beside him before helping Kamatari to his seat. She smiled kindly at him. "Hello Mr. Seta, how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling good actually," Kamatari replied cheerfully, happily sitting himself in a seat and buckling his belt. Megumi sat in the open seat beside him. "But let's you and me drop the formality Doc," he said with a smirk. "I'm going to be seeing a lot of you; you're going to be seeing a lot of me. Why don't we cut the Misters and Misses and get down to brass tacks?"

"All right," Megumi said with a smile, patting his hand coyly. Sanosuke grunted from his seat across the isle from them. Misao gave him an appraising look before turning back to the doctor. She smiled slightly, then moved on to take the open seat beside Soujiro, just in front of Kamatari and Megumi.

"You can call me Kamatari," said man continued with a smile.

"Then call me Megumi," she said calmly. "And that goes for you as well, Soujiro and Misao."

"Thanks!" They replied back in unison. 

Misao had already broken her punishment on Soujiro--she could never resist him for long--and they were now in the middle of a heated debate over which recon tactics should be used in order to steal the first of the swords. Kaoru and Yahiko took their seats in front of Sanosuke, and with everyone secure, the plane began its journey to England. 

"This is sure to be an interesting trip," Yahiko drawled to Kaoru, looking over at Misao and Soujiro. They had gone from practically strangling each other to laughing hysterically over something. 

Kaoru smiled placidly at her assistant. "Of course it is," she agreed. "Did you really expect anything else?"

"_I_ expected a bit more professionalism," Sanosuke muttered, butting into their conversation from behind.

"It's only to be anticipated that they'd be a little rusty after two years, Sano," Kaoru explained, painfully slow, like talking to a dense child. 

"Rusty, heh," he scoffed. "They're like school children! We're going against a lot of odds here to steal four of the most important artifacts ever created. You know the power they hold if they were to fall into the wrong hands."

"Sano, you have to relax," Kaoru replied. "Kenshin wouldn't have hired them if he wasn't sure of their abilities."

"Hmph. I still say I could have done a better job."

"Better job at what?" Misao asked, suddenly sitting down beside him.

"Mr. Sagara here was doubting your skills 'Sao," Soujiro said with a grin.

"You heard?" Sanosuke said, a little surprised.

Soujiro shrugged, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head. "I may not be as good a thief as Misao, but that doesn't mean I don't know a few tricks. Why does everyone think that all tech-guys are trekkies or something?"

"Because most tech-guys are," Kamatari called from next to them.

"Shut up!" Soujiro yelled over to him, pouting slightly. There was still a light of humor in his silvery-gray eyes. 

"We were just pondering," Yahiko said seriously. "Whether or not you three understand the manpower we've invested in this project. I don't know if you can even comprehend how important it is that this mission be completed correctly."

"Oh, I get it," Misao said with a knowing smile. She nodded her head, arms crossed over her chest, looking over at Soujiro with a quirked eyebrow.

"Definitely," he said, looking over to Kamatari.

"Don't look for my permission!" He said quickly. "I'm conversing with my physician, I want nothing to do with your schemes!"

Both Misao and Soujiro snickered. Misao looked levelly at the three executives. "You were doubting my skills, yes? Let me assure you that I am more than capable of 'completing this mission correctly'."

No one looked all that convinced. Misao sighed and Soujiro suddenly stood up, stretching his back. "Well, you guys are in for a rude awakening," he said with a slight yawn. "Misao's got the stickiest fingers in the tri-state area."

All eyes went back to Misao. She was fanning herself with three wallets, two black and one tan. All three executives' hands went for their pockets, feeling them empty. Sanosuke's eyes widened as he looked at the small black-haired woman beside him. He hadn't even seen her _move_ let alone feel his wallet being lifted. 

Convinced they were all appropriately dazzled, Misao handed the wallets back to their proper owners, smiling smugly. "I thought you were only a prize thief, not a pick-pocket," Sanosuke commented, stuffing his wallet deep into his pocket now.

Misao shrugged. "I started my career as a pick-pocket," she explained. "I've been lifting wallets since I was five or six."

"That's pretty young," Yahiko commented. "What made you start a life of crime so early?"

"Necessity," Misao replied, her mood darkening. "But when I met Sou and Kamatari, they brought me into the big leagues of prize theft." 

"I…don't suppose you'd let us run a test on your skills before the actual theft?" Kaoru asked subtly, her eyes refusing to meet Misao's. But the seasoned thief knew the drill. Most employers liked to run a test to make sure she was up to par. It wasn't offensive in any way; Misao thought it more like a compliment. 

"I would be more than happy to," she said easily.

Kaoru grinned. "Wonderful!"

And so they crossed the Atlantic Ocean in peaceful conversation, and Misao didn't need to steal anyone else's wallet.

__

England--an empty warehouse complex outside of London--

"Are we sure that this is the right address?" Misao asked again as they picked their way over to the entrance of the largest warehouse. Garbage and random articles were strewn all over the tall grass and empty earthed yard. 

Soujiro hung close to Misao, one arm loosely circling her waist as he directed her away from one of the more treacherous places. "We're at the right place," he said to her, hefting the heavy equipment bag higher on to his shoulder. "Far from civilization, full of dangerous crap so no one would want to come here. Can you think of a better place for a training yard?"

"Guess not," she admitted. 

Kaoru was in the lead, heading toward the largest building with a key card in hand. Yahiko struggled behind her, dragging a larger bag of equipment that Soujiro had brought. He was grumbling under his breath about how he was always made to do the grunt work. Misao and Soujiro walked a few yards behind them, casually waiting for their turn to do something. Sano brought up the rear, hands in his pockets, looking extremely bored. Megumi and Kamatari had gone ahead to the hotel, leaving the thieves to their thief-work and the executives to their executive business. 

When they reached the door of the warehouse, Kaoru swiped the card along a small grove above the door handle. A small green light suddenly blinked and the audible sound of a lock unlocking boomed in the silence. With a smile, Kaoru pushed the door open and everyone entered the building. 

All of Misao's doubts of the facility were quickly dissipated when she saw the inside. It was empty, completely empty of all furnishings. The only things in there were the florescent lights that Kaoru had turned on. What was frightening was that it was sterile--utterly clean from top to bottom. There was no other explanation other than it was used for something else, something underground from the looks of it.

Soujiro was smirking happily. This was his element: electronics and high-tech gizmos, but most importantly, spy gear. As Kaoru led them to a small elevator that would lead them to the underground training center, he hugged Misao closer to him and smiled at her. She smiled back, a little strained. 

"Don't worry Misao," he reassured her. "I'm right here with you. You'll be fine, promise."

"I know," she said confidently, her eyes reflecting her sincerity. "I just thought this part of my life was finally over." Soujiro nodded, a pensive expression steeling on to his face. "I promised him I'd stop," Misao whispered quietly, so that only he could hear her.

"He understands," Soujiro said, looking her in the eye. "Besides, you'll never be any good at anything but thieving."

Misao promptly elbowed him in the gut so that his laugh turned into a cough and the bag on his shoulder slid off to land heavily on Sanosuke's foot. "AIE!" the tall hacker yelped, hopping around in small circles on one foot. "What the fuck man?" he shouted at Soujiro.

"It was her fault," Soujiro denied, pointing at Misao.

"Me?!" she blinked. "What did I do?"

"My poor foot," Sanosuke whimpered.

"Aww, I'm sorry," Misao said, tilting her head. "My brother is a klutz sometimes. Don't judge him because he's slow."

"Hey!" Soujiro objected indignantly. Both Sanosuke and Misao shot him a glare. That shut him up quick, but didn't stop a few grumbles. 

"I think I'm ok," Sanosuke commented, testing his weight on the foot. 

"For the love of…Suck it up man!" Kaoru exclaimed as the door opened on the training center. Sanosuke was not a happy camper after that little incident, but it gave him ample opportunity to like Misao as she offered to cuff Soujiro across the head for him, which he agreed to and she promptly did.

Kaoru and Yahiko had taken their gear into the master control booth, a small room located above the actual training field that could only be reached by climbing a staircase and crossing a steel crosswalk. Sanosuke took his own position at a lower control station, punching in a few codes and setting up a few sequences. There was a large pit in the center of the room that was split into four sections, each a selected field of training. Misao was to be tested on all four fields.

"Okay Miss Makimachi," Kaoru said through a loudspeaker from the control box. "If you'll just ready yourself as much as you need, we'll get everything set up for you in the first field."

"What is the first field?" Misao asked, looking to Sanosuke. He was the one adjusting the settings for the test after all.

"It's a simulation of a laser-protected room. The object is to get through the maze without setting the sensors, and retrieving the artifact from a weight-regulated alarm." He didn't even look up while explaining; he was too busy punching a few more codes. "It's a level nine exercise."

"Out of ten?" Misao asked, opening the equipment bag Soujiro had laid down between them."

"Out of fifteen," he replied absently. 

"Ah," Misao nodded. "It'll be cake." 

"Don't get too cocky," Soujiro warned, placing a headset over his ears and adjusting the mouthpiece. "We want you to get out of this in one piece so we can skip to the real business."

Misao grinned. "Hey, this is me we're talking about."

Soujiro simply pulled the other headset over her hair and shook his head. "I know." She laughed lightly and changed from her baggy clothes into the form-fitting black body suit. Not only was it good for tight places where looser clothing might trip an alarm, it also worked wonders at disguising her gender, which was how she went so long without be recognized. 

Adjusting her headset, and testing it with Soujiro's, they found the links were still up and running, just like they had been when the Phantom Rogue team was still on the job. Misao also buckled on her 'utility belt'. It was a running joke that she looked like Batman with the black body suit and the belt of toys. All she needed was the pointed ears and the cape. After another few minutes of warm-up stretching to her blood flowing and body limber, Misao happily announced she was ready to go. 

Soujiro set himself up next to Sanosuke, pulling a small laptop into the control panel so he could upload the schematics of all the field tests and relay them to Misao. He happily tapped at a few keys and announced he was set as well. That was when Misao lowered herself into the first of the four pits, and began the test.

Misao looked at her surroundings, the setup of a normal flat walk for a museum. The to-be-stolen item set on a raised pedestal at the far end of the room. Just as she took the first step, the beginning riff to a rock song began to fill the room. Misao grinned, looking to the roof of the pit.

"We need a little mood music," Soujiro said over her co-link. He had rerouted the speaker system to play some of the songs stored in the hard drive of his laptop. 

__

This may never start.  
We could fall apart.  
And I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.   
Feelings insincere.  
Can I be your memory?

So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same.

Misao grabbed the small bottle attached to her utility belt, spraying a cloud of dusty smoke into the air. It hung, shimmering in the air for a few moments, illuminating the red laser beams that spread across the floor. After a quick assessment, Misao saw that the lasers were in a classic level eight star pattern, and was confident she could cross them easily. Each laser system company had a signature pattern that they set their lasers into. Misao had learned how to break just about every one. 

__

This may never start.  
I'll tear us apart.  
Cannot be your enemy.  
Losing half a year.  
Waiting for you here  
I'd be your anything.

So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same.

Misao moved her body, muscles bunching and releasing. Her body was tense and in control, gliding under and over invisible lasers with painstaking slowness. She held her body with enough strength to make everyone watching her gain just a little more respect. Her body folded in many angles that looked impossibly uncomfortable, and still she bent herself again to move to the next free space.

__

This may never start.  
Tearing out my heart.  
I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.  
(I'd be your memory)  
Feelings disappear.  
Can I be your memory?  
So get back, back, back to where we lasted.  
Just like I imagine.  
I could never feel this way.  
So get back, back, back to the disaster.  
My heart's beating faster.  
Holding on to feel the same.

It took Misao about six minutes to cross the room and get to her quarry. It was then that she pulled out another small gadget from her belt, touching the item with a small metal ball. The tiny remote in her hand ran off a few numbers before it settled on one--the weight of the object. Satisfied, she began to slowly slide the desired item off the weighted top it sat on, replacing it with the scaled remote that Soujiro had built for her. 

__

This may never start.  
We could fall apart   
And I'd be your memory.  
Lost your sense of fear.  
Feelings insincere.  
Can I be your memory?

When she was finished, Misao happily and confidently held up her prize. "Cake," she commented. Soujiro's chuckle was in her ears and she had to laugh along with him. And each of the other tests went the same way until not even Sano and Yahiko could doubt the skills of the Phantom Rogue.

__

London, private storage loft--

A dark figure scaled the wall of the room, silently slipping into the building through a window that had been cut open using a sharp blade. Garbed in black from head to toe, the would-be-thief crept calmly across the room. The cameras had been knocked out due to a few well-placed wire cuts. The laser system guarding the vault had fallen the same way. The vault itself stood like an unlocked door when faced with an electronic pick. The thief inserted the device into the lock and waited as the computer flew through number codes and system pairs until it blinked all seven numbers and the audible click of a lock being undone rang through the room.

That was when things became complicated.

Just as the thief opened the vault door, another figure dressed all in black, suddenly leapt out from a hiding place and tackled the first to the ground.

Misao had all the wind knocked out of her when she was thrown down. Her head smacking into the wooden floor with a hard thud. Pain erupted and her temper flared. With enough strength to momentarily stun her opponent, she pushed upwards and threw him from his position of straddling her waist.

They faced off, silently, carefully, assessing the other. Misao, who was small in size but big on attitude, felt herself gulp at her opposition. He was crouched before her, but she didn't need to see him at full size to know that he'd be even taller than Sanosuke, at least 6'2". He was also well built, the black bodysuit similar to her own fit perfectly to broad shoulders and long limbs. A mask covered his face completely; even the eyeholes were obstructed by his goggles, but she knew from the very power in his form when he had attacked her that there was no doubt he was a man. And the fact that two sheaths hung at his hips made her nervous.

_Great going Makimachi_, she berated herself silently, cracking her knuckles. _I come for a sword and find myself a swordsman. Not that great of an exchange_. 

She squatted on the floor, hands in the ready, legs tense with the expectation to spring. Her heart was beating fast now, frightened in spite of herself. There had been times in her life when she had to fight for a way out, be it with guards or owners. There was a few times when she did fight other thieves too. Misao was skilled and confidant, but she never liked getting into a fight when she could avoid it, especially against a foreign opponent.

"Misao," Soujiro's voice came over the com-link in her ear. "What's going on?"

There was a code--they was always a code--when it came to talking over the com-link. If there could be a listener around, Misao never directly spoke into her microphone for risk someone hearing her voice, which was undeniably female. Instead, they worked out a system of sounds that contained a meaning to each other. In this way, Misao was always covered when it came to hiding her identity.

She whistled a high note through her teeth. It was translated into 'another thief is in the room'.

"Get out of there," Soujiro said into her ear. He hated worrying about Misao even though she was capable of handling herself, but they were outside of their element here and he wouldn't risk her getting hurt. "We can get the sword later, just get out."

Misao growled low in the back of her throat. It was her way of saying 'no way in hell.' With that, their link was severed as she hit the button on her headset. She was getting that sword no matter what. Himura would pay her the money she needed for that sword, and then she might have a chance. If getting that sword meant going through his guy, then she would do it. No one would stand in her way.

With that firmly established, Misao reached to the small bands circling each of her upper arms and pulled out the concealed kunai knives that she always carried on her person, four in each hand. The opposition seemed to expect nothing else as he reached to his waist and unsheathed two swords. They were shorter than a normal katana, and it took Misao a moment before she realized that they were kodachi--small swords that were created for defensive moves. 

"Your move," he said quietly in the darkness. So, he wanted her to make the first move, huh? Well, Misao never was a woman to disappoint, so she rushed him. He raised his swords, ready to block and take her down easily, when she suddenly veered right. 

Misao threw herself to the right, tossing four of her kunai for cover as she grabbed the door handle to the vault and threw it open in a jerky motion. Then she dove inside and scrambled back to a loping gait. Her opponent, though clearly not expecting this action, was soon giving chase. Misao was fast, but not nearly as fast a Soujiro, and apparently not as fast as this thief because he soon overtook her, tripping her and forcing her to catch herself with her hands, pulling her body over into an arch.

He managed to skip to a stop, but not before Misao had pulled herself up and was angrily slashing at him with her four remaining kunai. Her body wove in and out, moving too fast for a good slice with a trained hand. Her body could maneuver almost of its own accord. He slashed down, Misao bent over, hugging her knees and brought one of her legs up toward his chest, barely connecting as he read her move and shifted to the side. She quickly followed through, bringing up one of her razor-sharp kunai and slashing his across the arm. Both paused at the ripping of cloth and the scent of blood. Her opponent looked from his bleeding arm and back to her. Misao froze like a deer in headlights, waiting for the retaliation.

"I'm impressed," he commented in a rather flat voice. 

Misao scoffed, adrenaline pumping through her again. She took up another defensive stance, which he quickly copied. Misao threw one of her kunai at his feet, sticking it deeply into the panel wood floor. His eyes followed it, as she intended, and she charge up the middle while his gaze was shifted. To her surprise, he seemed to have expected this tactic and brought up both his swords in a crossing motion. Misao was able to stop herself before she was secured, but he brought up the two sharp blades up a breath away from her neck. 

Misao stood still, her ragged breath the only sound coming from her. The strange thief took one of his blades from her throat, sheathing it without once looking away. Misao was about to step back when he brought the other sword up closer to her throat. 

_Damn him_, she mentally cursed. Her pulse was pounding in her veins, screaming at herself for being stupid and for not simply doing as Soujiro told her. No, she was Misao Makimachi, and she had to do everything her own way, or else.

That was when her mysterious opponent did something that caused her fear to spike even higher. He reached up with his free hand and grasped the hem of her mask a second before pulling it up over her head. Misao twisted out of reach of his sword now, but the damage was done. Her long hair fell from where it had been stuffed into her mask, falling around her shoulders and framing her face. Wide ocean eyes stared at the limp mask hanging in her opponent's hand, fear and anger flashing across them.

"Misao Makimachi," her opposition intoned in the same dismissive way as before. "Just as I thought."

Misao glared at him, pulling herself up to full height--though it really didn't do any good in the face of a man a full foot taller than her. "How do you know who I am?" she asked venomously.

"I do my homework," he replied. Misao still had three kunai, and she didn't like how he was advancing slowly toward her. For a moment, a memory flashed in her eyes. A dark alley…encroaching figures…icy rain…blood… The blood drained from her face and her body went ridged. 

"Who are you?" she asked in a harsh whisper, the kunai gripped so hard in her hands, the knuckles in her gloves turned white.

"I was hired by Mr. Shishio, that's all I'm going to say right now," he said calmly. 

"You won't get the swords," she spat, anger overtaking her fear and abating her memories. She'd deal with her emotional issues at a later date. She had a job to do right now, and that meant getting the sword that lay in a glass case no more than twenty feet from them. He didn't respond, only dropped his sword and began sprinting toward the sword in the same instant she moved. 

Misao reached the case first, but he engaged her in another bout of blows. Misao struck out with her kunai, but it didn't connect. The other thief slashed at her, attempting to hack her in two if he could. Obviously he didn't go easy on women. That only fueled Misao's indignant anger and she brought her leg up to the glass case, kicking it off the table it was resting on. The shattering echoed through the room.

She quickly did a cartwheel from her opponent's side, grabbing the sword when her hands met the floor. When she was back on her two feet, Misao simply ran. She didn't look back, couldn't look back. She just ran as fast as she ever thought she could, the sword clutched tightly in her hand. Footsteps followed her quickly, almost overtaking her again, but in the last moment, she put on another burst of speed and flew through the storage facility and grabbed her rope to the window. 

He collided with her when she grabbed the rope. Misao crashed hard to the floor, hugging the sword to her chest. He grabbed her by the arm, trying to haul her back up, to rip the sword from her gloved hands, but she struck out, her leg connecting hard with his kneecap.

He didn't curse or yell or strike out, but he did fall on to his knees with a low growl. Misao was released from his grasp and struggled back as far as she could until her shoulders were pressed against the cold wall. After a momentary breather, he followed after her, as determined as she to get the sword. As before, Misao struck out with her foot when he got to close, this time catching him across the elbow.

"Shit!" That time, he did curse. And he retracted his arm, cradling it near to his chest as he shot what Misao assumed to be a glare at her. His face was still in the mask so she couldn't be a hundred percent sure. "Dammit woman, just give me the goddamned sword."

"Go fuck yourself," she replied angrily. "This is mine now."

He growled, and then did something that surprised Misao greatly. Instead of hitting her, which she thought he just might, Aoshi reached up and pulled the mask and goggles off of his head, letting out a deep breath. Those things did obstruct the airway after all. 

Misao became nervous after this act, and even more nervous when, through a curtain of raven bangs, her ocean eyes met the gaze of a very angry pair of crystalline orbs. She gulped, pulling herself into a tighter ball and gripping the sword tightly. Something in his gaze flickered when he saw the fear in her eyes.

Aoshi hadn't expected that. He expected the fierce fighting and the harsh temper, but he hadn't expected fear. It was…a little unnerving. Not enough to sway him from his course, however. He would get that sword; he had to. 

They sat like that for a few breathless minutes, simply and openly assessing one another. Neither were naive enough to think their paths would not cross again. They were both after the same things after all. 

After a moment or two passed, Aoshi dropped his head, breaking their eye contact and shook his head. A brief, humorless scoff was emitted from him before he looked up again. "Just what I expected from the 'Phantom Rogue.'"

Misao narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. "Who are you?" she asked again.

This time, he felt more inclined to answer. "'Ashen Shadow'," Aoshi replied with a shrug. "Courtesy of the press, but I never cared for the name."

They were silent again for a long moment, until a few sounds at the window drew both their attention. The head of a figure had poked through the window. "Misao?" it called in a harsh whisper.

"Soujiro!" Misao called back, breathless in her joy. "Down here!"

Soujiro slide down the rope easily, scanning silver eyes spotting Aoshi right away and his gaze darkened to a deep brown. In his free hand was his sakabato, ready for a fight, it one was to be provided. Both Soujiro and Misao were utterly shocked when Aoshi simply stood up, grabbed his mask from the floor and began walking toward his own entrance where he picked the lock on the service entrance.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Misao," he called back over his shoulder. She had no doubt about that and shivered more out of anticipation than fear. He had been a better fighter than her--Misao was not so proud that she could not admit that. There had been at least three openings where he could have killed her, but did not. It only gave her more questioned about this mysterious thief. Questions she would have to answer before they met again. For as long as she was in the dark, he had the advantage. And that was one thing Misao would not allow.

****

A/N: Well, thanks to all who read this chapter and I hope you remember to review! Thanks again for the support, the next chapter will be one in a week or so.

****

Notes from the Co-author: I wanted to say my own little speal here so here goes--I am Jesse the Wolf Demon, co-author of this song 'Safer On The Outside' and I have to say that I adore it! I have been feeling very Aoshi/Misao lately and this story just came to me one night when I was watching one of my favorite movies ever--Mission: Impossible--and said 'hey, I want to write something that will make people do cool spy-things'. But what's better than a spy? A thief! And I used the song 'Safer on the Outside' by my favorite band, American Hi-Fi, as title and chapter headings. So there you go!


	4. Chapter 4: “Sink On You”

****

A/N: Okay, here is chapter 4. This chapter is more set up than interaction. We get a little more background on Soujiro and Aoshi, and we're setting it up for the next chapter. I had hoped to get this chapter out sooner, but these things can't be rushed. The genius of my co-author and myself must be given time to grow, and believe me when I say we have many a conversation over this story. Enjoy!

****

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, anything as remotely good as Aoshi or Misao or Soujiro, or even my own car. I don't even have a job...what does that say about me?

Safer On The Outside

Chapter 4: _"Sink On You"_

Soujiro Seta sat in the back of his van. Thousands of dollars worth of computerized and robotics equipment littered the floor and walls around him. He sat in a small computer chair on wheels, tapping freely at a coverless keyboard, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips and a digital clock display behind his left ear blinking past two in the morning. 

Yes, he had promised both Misao and Kamatari that he would quit smoking for years, and he had mostly kicked the habit except for a stick here and there to calm his nerves. Right now, he would risk the wrath of his siblings to get through the night. 

The van's radio was playing The Yeah Yeah Yeahs' song _Maps_ quietly, giving him a rhyme to type along with. Soujiro was a very musically oriented person. It helped him concentrate. It had been that way since his early days, when his tyrannical father used to make him drill martial arts from dawn until dusk. He'd use the music, something else to concentrate on while his body went through the motions. Something to block out the hated voice and make him forget the stinging pain in his body. 

It had been over ten years since his father died, since Kamatari had opened his doors to his estranged half-brother, a fifteen-year-old boy with no one else in the world. That had been Soujiro's first taste of family, or freedom, of some semblance of existence beyond the edge of a blade. He remembered-- in vivid detail-- all the shit he used to put Kamatari through, all the curses and moods and misplaced anger. Through all of his issues, the older Seta never wavered in his devotion, and it had eventually won him over. The real change, the real whirlwind that made them a family came in the lithe form of a sixteen-year-old Misao. 

Soujiro kicked back in his chair, moving to the other side of the van and swiveling in the chair, keyboard still in his lap as his face upturned to another screen. His long fingers danced across the keyboard, entering more codes, tracking down this and that, checking message boards and gathering info. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the butt from his mouth and jammed it in the ashtray on the table beside him before kicking back to his original position on the other side of the van. 

After another ten minutes of searching and recon, the back door to the van opened and Misao climbed in, a small covered tray under her arm. "Hey," she smiled.

"Good evening," Soujiro greeted, taking a break from his screens to see what she was up to.

"You've been in the van all night," she commented.

"Research," he replied. 

She nodded. "I know." She placed the tray on a small table and lifted the lid, revealing a rather tasty looking cheeseburger and fries. "I thought you'd like a midnight snack."

"Even though it's more like a three AM snack," he quipped.

"Yeah, well, I thought you'd be smart enough to come inside the hotel Himura is putting us up in." He grinned up at her in a very easy-going manner. "As usual, the great Soujiro can never be predicted."

"I'd lose my mystery," he argued.

"Whatever you say," Misao laughed. "Now don't let my three fifty go to waste." Soujiro happily dug into the food offered him as his sister sat herself on the floor of the van and looked over a few of the active screens. "Do you know anything about the sword we have?" she asked after a while.

"So far, all I know," Soujiro commented while chewing, "is that we have the second of the set of four. It's the smaller of the two broadswords. I was looking it over with Sanosuke and Kaoru earlier, and we saw that the design in the blade, leading up to the hilt, is a sort of ivy or vine plant pattern."

"Ivy? That's symbolic for life isn't it?" Misao questioned, looking up at the largest screen as Soujiro tapped in a code on his board and pulled up a few schematics of the blade. 

"In mythology, yes," he agreed. "Ivy is seen as the plant of life. The hilt itself also has wrought iron vines design around the signet stone in the center of the handle. We can tell it's the second because the stone at the very tip of the handle," he paused to point it out for her, "is green. An emerald. The first sword has a ruby."

"Did you find any other tidbits?" she asked.

Soujiro leaned back in the chair, arching his back to smooth out the kinks and running his hands through his hair. "None so far. I'll probably find out more once our researcher comes back in the morning." On a reflex, he reached behind his ear and pulled out an unlit cigarette and popped it in his mouth before lighting it with a small blue plastic lighter from the pocket of his jeans. Misao watched him with a level expression. "I know, I know," he commented after taking a drag. "I'll quit tomorrow."

"I wasn't going to say anything," she commented, getting up and grabbing the cigarette from his mouth. Placing it in her own, she took a few puffs before handing it back to him. "You know it's mostly Kamatari who hates us smoking."

"I thought you quit!" He said in mock exasperation.

Misao rolled her eyes. "What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

"Speaking of our beloved brother…"

"He's getting cozy with Megumi," Misao said with a yawn, taking the cigarette back again. "They have a room together next to mine. I think he likes her, which is always a good sign."

"Yeah, considering he hates most doctors." Soujiro stretched once more before getting to his feet. "Well, I think I should be getting to bed, sweet and darling little sis."

"Before you take off," Misao quietly halted him as he reached for the door handle. "Did you find anything on him?"

Soujiro waved his cigarette toward the smallest of the screens set up in the van. "Google's finest," he said with a nod. "Night 'Sao."

"Night," she called after him before settling into his chair and wheeling over to the screen with the keyboard in her lap. With a few keystrokes, Misao was met with a multitude of information on a thief dubbed by the press as 'Ashen Shadow'.

Aoshi sat in his small room, deep in thought. He went over every moment he had spent in the warehouse with Misao Makimachi, went through every movement made when they fought and every word exchanged. He had to be better prepared for when they faced one another again. She might have gotten away with the first sword, but he wouldn't let her get any of the others.

The room was dark where he sat, not a single light on except for the revolving lighted words on the screen of his cell phone. He had no doubt that Shishio would soon call him, to taunt or to berate, or to order him to do something else. Aoshi knew that he would do anything he asked just as well as he knew the bastard would be calling. It wasn't for money that he was Shishio's slave. There was no amount of money in the world that could make him be a slave to such a vindictive master. Aoshi Shinomori was a man who could not be bought. 

But that didn't mean he couldn't be blackmailed.

A year earlier, before he had ever heard the name of Shishio, Aoshi was living a fruitful life as a martial arts instructor. Of course, his nightlife was filled with more danger and a lot better pay since he worked as a thief for hire with his four companions. They had been making quite a name for themselves, the five of them, for pulling off rumored impossible jobs. 

That was when a man named Hoji, who worked for a wealthy backer named Shishio, had approached them. They wanted to hire Aoshi and his team for a risky job, which involved breaking into the home office of Himura Towers. The five thieves were cocky, but not stupid, so they turned down the offer. Shishio had not taken the rejection well.

A few months later, Aoshi found himself in the middle of a mess, with the lives of his four friends of the line. Now he was Shishio's puppet, doing whatever his master commanded, no questions asked, or else his friends would be killed. Aoshi had looked for them, done intense research, but every time his leads took him somewhere, they were silenced. Shishio had him on a short leash and would not have this dog bite the hand that fed him.

The phone began to play the familiar ring and Aoshi reached out, deftly flipping it open and bringing it to his ear. "Yes?"

"You let the first sword slip right through your fingers," Shishio said lightly. Aoshi had known him long enough to take the hints he gave in his voice, and right now Shishio was extremely upset. "I don't like that."

"I needed to feel out my opposition," Aoshi commented. "The other three will be mine soon."

"The other three are worthless without the first," Shishio hissed. "I need the complete set of four."

"I'll get the other sword," Aoshi said calmly, distantly. "You just have to be patient."

"I understand," Shishio said, his voice falling back to that vindictive note. "But remember this, for every sword you let Himura have, I will kill one of your little friends." Aoshi stiffened at this remark. "You have two days to get me that sword," Shishio continued, heedless of Aoshi's silence. "Have a nice evening." The click at the end of the line signaled his hanging up. 

Aoshi took a few deep breaths, stilling his anger and repressing the urge to hurl the phone against the wall and listen to the sweet sounds of cracking plastic. The phone itself seemed like a mark of his obedience. It had the power to make him sick to his stomach at how far he had fallen in so short a time. 

"Bastard," he whispered to the silent room. His mind began running before he could control it. Who would be the first taken in Shishio's anger? Beshimi…he was the smallest. Or maybe Hannya, since he was the closest to Aoshi. How would he do it? Would it be slow? Would it hurt?

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the images with physical effort, before rising to his feet and padding into the bathroom. A hot shower would help clear his mind, help him plan for the coming confrontations. He needed to be relaxed if he was going to plot out how to steal from a thief, a thief that could be very well better than he was. 

Kamatari was woken in the middle of the night when Soujiro attempted stealth when entering the room they shared. It was when he stumbled over a footrest and let out a low string of curses that alerted his older brother of his presence. 

"You smell like cigarettes," the older Seta mumbled to the dark.

"Forgive me," Soujiro said, his voice still carrying a note of anger. "Stress is a bitch and my jit sticks are the only thing that keeps me calm."

"Ever hear of yoga?"

"Cut the shit, Kamatari," Soujiro snapped as he sat on the twin bed nearest the window and clicked on the small table lamp that sat on the dresser between them. "It's been a long night."

Kamatari shielded his eyes from the suddenly light and glared as best he could in the general direction of his younger brother. "It will be longer still now that you woke me up."

Soujiro sighed, throwing himself back on to the comforter. "I've been researching the sword, but Sanosuke will have to finish for me tomorrow. I'm tapped out and I still have to fix Misao's gadgets for the next pull."

"We could wait a day before going on to the next destination," Kamatari suggested. "Himura said we have unlimited time, and I don't like where Misao's head is right now."

"I wouldn't be a ball of sunshine if I were her either," the younger man commented dryly. "She got hurt in a bad way with this mission. There's no guarantee this other thief won't kill her the next time, and from what Misao told me, he's a better fighter than she is."

"You could go with her next time," Kamatari said. "I could man the floor plans and relay to you. There's no one who could keep her safer than you."

Soujiro smiled, preening a bit at the compliment. "You know as well as I do that it's harder to get two people in and out than one. I'd just slow her down, and speed is the key to this job."

"I know, I'm just giving out ideas," Kamatari sighed. "She was up here prowling like a caged tiger before. This other guy must have been pretty tough to get her that riled."

"The weird thing," Soujiro whispered, more to himself than Kamatari, "was that he wanted her to know who he was. Misao said he voluntarily took off his mask and gave her his name, like he wants to be caught or something."

"Strange," Kamatari mused, then smiled. "Was he cute?"

Soujiro rolled his eyes. "I didn't get that great of a look and in case I failed to mention to you, brother dear, I do like women."

Kamatari laughed. "There is hope for you yet, my boy." Soujiro only grinned, not having enough time to respond before Misao burst into the room with a triumphant look and a computer print out.

"Aoshi Shinomori!" she declared with pride.Both of her brothers blinked at her. "That's his name," she elaborated. "I did a few searches and I even called one of our old informants from the guilds. Seems he and his team were really hard core up until around six months ago when they all disappeared."

"Think Shishio pocketed them?" Kamatari asked. "A man like that has enough money to keep a pack of hired thieves for life."

"I don't think so," Misao commented. "He didn't seem particularly inclined to get the sword. I mean, he could have taken it from me pretty easily before Sou arrived, but he didn't."

"You suspect foul play?" Soujiro questioned. "Blackmail, threats to go to the cops?"

"Who knows," the woman sighed, settling on to the mattress beside her brother and leaning her head on his shoulder. "If it is blackmail, he could get desperate."

Soujiro wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Desperate men are the most dangerous," he warned. "He could become a problem when we go for the other swords."

"I know," she replied.

"Well, I guess there's only one thing to do, kiddies," Kamatari commented with resolve. Both of his siblings looked at him for the answer. "We just have to get them first, fast, and get them back to Himura before anyone's the wiser."

Misao gave him a bland look. "Thanks for the revelation Kamatari."

"Don't get sour with me, little bird," her brother scolded. "Both of you need sleep. You'll think better when you're rested and alert. And _not smoking_."

"Fink," Misao laughed, elbowing Soujiro in the side.

"I didn't tell him," her brother whined. "He could smell it, like a bloodhound."

"You two should know by now," Kamatari laughed while reaching for the switch on the lamp. "You can never fool your big brother." Collective groans were muttered, chuckles were had, and then sleep finally took them. It was easy to cast off their worries until the morning light, to shed the weight on their shoulders until their bodies were rejuvenated enough to bare them once more. Come morning, everything would be back.

Come morning, they would be leaving England for the next destination, for the next sword. And it just so happened that the second sword was in Italy, hidden beneath the streets of Rome to be more exact.

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A/N: Hey everyone, know what time it is? You guessed it, time for review responses! cheers My favorite part of the chapter, where I get to respond to the reviews given me by you, my beloved readers!

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indigo chipmunk: I'm happy that you like Aoshi's nickname. It was actually inspired by a little help, and a conversation, had with a great Aoshi/Misao writer: Silver Miko. This is not that great a chapter, but the next one promises great action and a few insults thrown between my favorite pair. You know what they say, when in Rome…

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Sonia: Not a stupid question. As of now, Misao has the first sword. I'm very happy that you like this fic and I do hope you'll keep reading. Thanks for the review.

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Tiian: Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, we wanted to make this one filler before going straight into the mission of the next sword. Yes, there are people who really can do that, steal from a group of people unnoticed. The song was actually my (Jesse's) idea. I'm very much into foreshadowing, and that song held a few lines that I thought would be as a plot device. Ah, true, no thief should give info on himself to anyone--least of all his rival--but Aoshi wants them on even ground, you see. He knows all there is to know on her, so now she knows all she can on him. More will be explained in the next chapter when they meet up again. 


	5. Chapter 5: “Drunken highways”

A/N: Okay, here is Chapter 5 of Safer on the Outside. I was hit by a sudden bout of inspiration and I had to write this. Okay, next chapter will be out in about 2 weeks-- or sooner if I am inspired again. No reviews this time, I'm too lazy and my computer is being really retarded so I can't look up my reviews, arg. (One little side note here: Jesse the Wolf Demon's most excellent story called _Riffs & Canvas _was nominated for Elimination. It would be most appreciated if you could vote for it. The address is located on my bio page!) Anyway, enjoy!

Safer on the Outside

Chapter 5: _Drunken highways_

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_Two days._ His mind chanted that in a low whisper. Over and over in rang in his ears, even as he sat quietly on the plane, even as he got into a cab to take him to a small hotel, even as he spoke fluent Italian to the hotel manager. All the while, his mind lingered on the fact that he only had two days left to save the only lives in the world that mattered to him.

His room in this hotel was similar to the one he had occupied in England. It was small, empty, and lonely. There were barely any touches of life, and the color on the wall made him think back to his high school days. It was almost depressing.

Aoshi didn't unpack; he wouldn't be staying more than a few days. All he had was a duffle bag with his clothes and the carrying case for his laptop. His gear would be arriving curtsey of FedEx in a few hours. Anything else he would need-- or not even need but be forced to use anyway-- would arrive by currier from Shishio. The sociopath millionaire often sent Aoshi 'gifts' for his latest mission, which included the most state of the art spy gear, or weaponry, or something of the like. After all, a happy thief is a thief who steals more.

But Aoshi was not a happy thief. Not at all. In fact, he was the farthest thing from happy at the moment. He was a brooding thief. A brooding thief was not a thief who stole well at all. Still, Aoshi was a smart man-- brilliant even-- so he knew the consequences of his failed action.

Bottom line: He _had_ to get this next sword or his friends would be dead. One sword would buy him the time he needed to get the others, to get the one he let the Phantom Rogue steal from under his nose.

That was a bit harsh, considering he _let_ her take the sword. He figured, give her a minimal taste of victory early on, before he left her in the dust. Skilled thief or not, he was the better fighter. After all, she was only a woman. A young, small woman. Fast as lightning. Pretty too.

He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. That was all he needed right now, to develop a crush on the competition. "Jetlag," he muttered to himself. Yes, that was all it was. He was overtired, overworked, and stressed to the breaking point.

It was nearly four in the morning when he hauled himself out of a hot shower and into bed. He'd have to be up and about in less than four hours, scouting out the rest of Rome. He'd locate the sword, he'd get it to Shishio, and he'd get that extra time. Those were the thoughts that comforted him as he drifted off.

Still, his last conscious image was a memory of the Phantom Rogue, back pressed against the wall of a warehouse, arms locked tightly around the sheath of a sword, and her dark eyes wide as she looked at him.

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"Good, Misao," Kaoru said with a smile. "Again!"

They had arrived in Rome earlier that morning, at around eleven. Soujiro and Sanosuke were arguing in the van over where to begin searching for the next sword. They knew it was somewhere in the catacombs. But in a city that had miles of tunnels beneath its streets, they didn't know where to start their search. Kamatari had begun going over their funding, already putting the money they got for the first sword to good use. As per prior agreement, half of the money was sent to charity, so his first task was to find one that was in desperate need of sufficient funding. Megumi was intrigued by their methods, and happily joined Kamatari in his search.

Misao was training. She was always training. It was the training that kept her alert, ready. Misao Makimachi was no fool. She knew that she would come up against Shinomori again, and this time she had to be better. She had to be stronger, faster, and more equipped to handle his assaults. To do that, to be ready, she had to train.

"Ah, Kaoru," Misao groaned, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. "You're a slave driver!" Misao had her braid piled up on her head, so it wouldn't get in her way while fighting. She practiced in her bodysuit, only without the mask. Training in the gear she would later be fighting in helped her get a better feel of the situation.

Kaoru cracked an imaginary whip. "I wouldn't let you have a break until I see knives in all the vulnerable points on that target. Go!"

A vaguely human-figured target was set up about twenty yards from Misao. It was a far toss to get every knife into a 'kill spot', but they had been working for nearly three hours now. Misao almost had them all.

"Uh-oh," taunted Yahiko from his seat nearby. "Misao is having trouble!" Kaoru had sent him on a few training exercises as well, but he was finished. Now he enjoyed sitting and taunting Misao when she missed. That was until an extremely sharp implement went flying past his left cheek. That shut up his cackling.

"Quiet, Yahiko," Kaoru snapped. "We need to concentrate here."

Misao did just that. Four knives firmly in each hand, she lowered herself into a running attack position. She focused on her own breathing, the beating of her heart. Then, as suddenly as she had been standing at the end of the target run, Misao shot off like a bullet toward her target. Zig-zagging the entire twenty yards at a speed that would have left many Olympic track and field stars envious, Misao leapt and sent the first volley at her target before hopping back and sending the second. Her retreated was a choreographed combination of handsprings and back flips.

"Very nice, Misao," Karou commented with a smile when she was done. Then she went to inspect the target.

Misao waited, breathing in and out to steady herself. Kaoru studied the target for a few minutes before coming back over to Misao, with a smile on her face. "Congrats," she said with a satisfied smirk. "My work ethics have improved your aim quite a bit. You got all the spots, go take a break."

Misao bowed. "Thanks, Kaoru." With a smirk, the thief scampered off toward where Kamatari was sitting with one of Soujiro's laptops. "Whatcha lookin' at?" his sister asked, lounging in the chair next to him.

"Just checking my stocks," Kamatari replied with a suggestive lift to his eyebrows.

"How's the market today?"

"We're up by two points."

"Woo-hoo!" Misao laughed. "Does this mean I can get the pony I've always wanted?"

"No," Kamatari replied, making Misao pout. His eyes were dancing. "This means we can get that addition on the studio you've been whining for. Now you can teach martial arts as well as dance."

Misao's smile was brilliant. "Think I can make Soujiro leave his lab long enough to help me in that department?"

"I wouldn't count on that, little bird," was her brother's reply. He frowned a little but affection was still in his eyes. "You know Soujiro lost his taste for fighting a long time ago."

"He still taught me," Misao countered. "And he'll fight when the need calls for it. I'm not asking advanced classes, just maybe with small children." She quirked a smile at him as she got up and arched her back out. "You know how he loves kids."

"Yeah," Kamatari nodded, turning back to his computer screen. "Now if only he'd ask his girlfriend to marry him, I might actually be an uncle before I die."

The statement was meant to be a light one, but Misao frowned. She hated talk of death, especially in the case of Soujiro or Kamatari. All of her family was dead. Everyone she had ever loved had died. All she had were Soujiro and Kamatari, and she vowed to herself when she was sixteen years old that she would never let anything happen to them.

Shaking off grim thoughts, Misao squeezed Kamatari's shoulder as she left to check on Soujiro and Sanosuke. Kamatari patted her hand as she left, eyes riveted to the screen once more. She had to chuckle to herself. Despite Kamatari's... uniqueness, his mind was as sharp as a tack when it came to anything involving money. Once he had his mind on the market, Misao doubted that even the most attractive man in the universe could tear his eyes from the screen.

For some reason, a memory flashed before her inner eye. Aoshi Shinomori, his mask pulled free from his face as he panted slightly and watched her with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. His face had been mostly in shadow, but Misao had not the pride to fight the fact that he had been gorgeous. Still, she tried to shake off such thoughts with physical movement as she pulled the van door open and hopped into the passenger seat.

Sanosuke and Soujiro were sitting on either side of the van, in the back, arms crossed across both their chests, silently glaring at one another. The only sound in the car was the beeping of computer programming and the breathing of the occupants. It was almost eerie-- Misao had never seen either of them so still or so quiet.

"Hi!" she said cheerily. They both jumped and whirled to stare at her. Misao wrinkled her nose-- they hadn't even heard her come in. "What's the plan?"

"Misao," Soujiro said with a frown. "Knock before you enter a man's van."

"Well, when I find a man, I'll let you know," Misao quipped. "You two are acting like two little kids. What _are_ you attempting to accomplish?"

"The sword was reported to be the property of people who own property in the inner portion of the city," Sanosuke said with little annoyance. He tossed Misao a crumpled computer printout. "I think we should start there."

"Reports say," Soujiro added tersely, "the last time the sword was seen, it was in the eastern portion of the city." He tossed her another printout. "We should start there."

Soujiro and Sanosuke glowered at each other again. Meanwhile, Misao looked over the printouts that had been thrown at her. It would make sense that the owners of the sword would have it hidden close by them, so Sanosuke's theory was sound. Still, the last place it was seen would be a logical place to begin a search, so Soujiro was also on the right track. There was only one thing to do.

"Which sword is this?" she asked.

"The third," both men chorused.

"Thank you," she said brightly. Scooting into the back, Misao went over to one of the computer screens and typed for a few minutes. Suddenly, she laughed. "You're both wrong," she said triumphantly.

"What?" Sanosuke said indignantly. "I'd think we'd know more about this than you. Why don't you stick to thievery-- that _is_ what you're good at."

"Hey," Soujiro said with a growl. "Don't talk to my sister like that."

They both jumped to their feet, ready to come to blows. "Hey, boys, simmer down!" Misao ordered, grabbing Soujiro by the back of his shirt and pulling him away. "We're on the same side here."

"Tell him to cool it off," Soujiro remarked, brushing himself off.

"Come say that to my face, shorty," Sanosuke taunted.

Soujiro would have, had Misao not given him 'the look'. "Would you two reign in the testosterone for five minutes? I think I found something."

"What'd you find?" Soujiro asked, turning to look at the computer.

"Well, look here," Misao said, pointing to an article from a newspaper printed nearly thirty years ago. It was in Italian, but the translator on the sidebar of the screen translated it into English. "The paper Sanosuke gave me said that the sword is currently the property of this family, right?" Misao pointed to the name of an Italian family on the screen.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Well, it says they own property in both the East and West sections of Rome, as well as the family estate near the center of the city. This article says that the property in the West was foreclosed, that no one lives there anymore. This happened a year after the sword was last seen, according to your research, Sou."

"So you think they hid the sword under the western property?" he questioned.

"Makes sense," Sanosuke said from a little distance back. "The sword was spotted on the other property, and they wouldn't want to be obvious and have it under their home. Might as well hide it where no one goes."

Soujiro looped an arm around Misao's shoulders for a quick hug. "My sister is a genius. Where did you find this?"

"Google-- Rome style," Misao beamed. "I'll go get ready."

"You should pack a small bag too," Sanosuke suggested. "You might be down there a while, if the sword was moved around in the tunnels."

"Right," Misao said with a pensive look, her mind already on the next job. "I know just what I need." With firm resolve she hopped out of the van and headed back to Kamatari.

Once she was gone, Sanosuke turned to Soujiro. "Is she always like that?"

"What do you mean?" her brother said defensively.

"She's flaky," Sanosuke said with a shrug. "And what's up with that touching thing?"

Soujiro stiffened a little. "Misao doesn't trust people easily," he commented. "She loves people with even more difficultly. Only if she does both can she stand to be touched."

"That's a little flaky to me," Sanosuke said with a shrug. Soujiro didn't respond.

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Misao checked the contents of her small bag once more as they drove to the nearest entrance of the catacombs that they could find to the property in question. Sitting in the back of the van as Soujiro drove, Misao adjusted her mask and her headset once more as well. After sleeping most of the afternoon away in preparation for the coming night, she was energized and alert.

Flashlights. Check. Matches. Check. Rope. Check.

Her knives, twelve in total, were hidden in various places on her body. Four were tucked into her boots. Four were on her belt. One was on each wrist and two were hidden beneath her armpits in special sheaths. Misao fiddled which her goggles nervously.

First Aid kit. Check. Bottled water. Check. Slim Jims... just in case.

A few other odds and ends like batteries for her headset and the like were loaded in the small black bag. If she was down there more then a day, she'd have to come back out to re-supply. Soujiro also equipped her with a small transmitter so that he could keep track of her in the tunnels and relay directions via his maps in the van.

Misao was about to close up the bag when she noticed a small rectangular box at the bottom of the bag. Bringing it up, she saw it was a half-used box of cigarettes. Looking at Soujiro, who was busy driving and not paying attention to her, she smirked. This must have been his hiding place from Kamatari. Oh well, his loss was her gain.

"We're here," he called over his shoulder, pulling into an open space alongside a building in disrepair. Misao tossed the bag over her shoulder and exited the van though the rear. She turned on her headset as she walked toward the building. Two pieces of wood in the shape of an X were across the front door, so Misao walked around to the window.

"The entrance is in the basement, right?" she asked through the microphone.

"Yep, just get through the window and it's through the door in the kitchen," Soujiro told her as he adjusted the van for the night. Sanosuke would be relieving him in a few hours. The rest of the team would take turns, for however long it took for Misao to find her quarry.

The door in the kitchen was stuck so Misao had to ram her shoulder into the wood to open it up. It jarred her a little, and Misao regretted her hasty action. There were missing stairs, but she hopped over them easily. There was a small doorway directly across from her when she reached the basement-- the entrance to the catacombs.

Pulling out a flashlight, Misao clicked it on and opened the door. The entrance was covered in cobwebs, but the thief walked through them without fear. Spiders didn't bother her. In fact, there was very little in this world that frightened Misao Makimachi anymore. One had to be fearless to do her kind of work.

With Soujiro's directions, she walked the cold, dark, and empty halls of the catacombs. They smelled musty and dank and old. Misao could hear the sounds of rats running about, but there were other sounds that made her think she was being followed. Shivers ran up and down her spine. Was it a spector? Ghosts of long-dead Romans or Catholics come back to punish her for trespassing? She was better off not thinking about it and just concentrating on the mission at hand.

"Sou," Misao whispered into the headset. "This place is creepy!"

"Don't tell me you're scared," the static-y reply laughed. "The Phantom Rogue should be fearless."

Misao was puzzled by the sudden arise in the static, but she was deep underneath an Italian city-- it was only to be expected. Still, Soujiro's equipment was always top notch and the static worried her. It she lost contact with Soujiro, she would, without a doubt, be lost amidst the catacombs.

"You know," a voice suddenly said from behind, making Misao jump nearly out of her skin. As it was she squeaked and dropped her flashlight. "It's not safe to be down here alone." Misao whirled, only to come mask to mask with the thief she had secretly hopped never to cross swords with again.

She dropped her bag and grabbed the two knives hidden beneath her armpits, quickly assuming a defensive stance. Her opponent, however, just leaned one elbow against the wall of the hallway and looked at her. Or at least she assumed he was looking at her since he was once more donning his mask.

"You've been following me." It was not a question.

"Yes." There was no remorse in his voice.

"Well, Mr. Shinomori, we might as well get this over with so I can go get the next sword."

He smirked beneath his mask. "So you've found my secret identity."

"It wasn't hard, seeing as how you gave me your name," she said sourly. Why wasn't he attacking?

"I thought it only fair we be on level ground," he commented with a shrug. Why couldn't he attack?

"Do you expect a thank you?" she asked testily.

"I wouldn't know what to do with one," he said languidly. That was when he moved into an attacking stance, reaching for the swords that were sheathed at his waist. "But as you said, we need to get this over with so I can get the sword."

He surged forward, swords at the ready for attacking, but when he got there, she was gone. Misao had dodged to the side, coming around behind him, and slashing down with her knife. Aoshi twisted just in time to miss the attack. He bought down one of his swords, but she deflected the blow and then blocked the counter attack. She brought her knives around, as if to attack his face, but pulled back at the last moment. She hit him with a drop kick instead, sending Aoshi back and to the ground. Misao was on her feet an instant later, grabbing her pack and running down the hallway.

"Soujiro!" she yelled into the headset. "Where am I going?"

"Misao? What's going on?"

"He's here!" she all but screamed. "Get me out of here!"

"Ok go left. Left!" Misao couldn't slow down enough so she dropped to skid with one hand gripping the ground. A shower of dirt shot up under her boot as she flew around the corner and took off down a narrow path. She could hear Aoshi right behind her.

"Go right!" Soujiro commanded and Misao complied. Just as she turned however, her speed decreased a fraction. It was enough for Aoshi to grab her by the arm and throw her off balance. Misao hit the ground hard, jarring her arm again, but scrambled up quickly. Aoshi blocked her path and Misao had no choice but to go straight. She gripped two of the four knives hidden in her boots, launching them at Aoshi before sprinting off.

Aoshi dodged the volley of knives and was soon chasing at her heels. He didn't really want to hurt her, but he had to make sure he got this sword, no matter what. For the sake of his friends.

"Misao, go back!" Soujiro yelled into her ear.

"I can't! He's right there!"

"Misao, please, go back! You can't go that way! There's a drop at the--"

Misao didn't finish listening because the path before her came to an abrupt stop. The ground beneath her feet came to an end and Misao felt herself freeze for that split second before she began plummeting. She let out a deafening shriek, the bag slipping from her grasp. She fell for what felt like forever before she connected with solid ground, soft dirt strung across solid stone. She felt her bones shake, and felt her poor, abused shoulder disconnect from her socket. Misao whimpered, curling into a fetal position at the bottom of whatever hole she found herself in, nursing her wounded side.

"Misao!" a voice called from above. "Are you alright?"

Misao wasn't going to reply because she knew who was calling. Instead, she groped for the headset, which had fallen off during her tumble. It lay in pieces beside her, the static still sounding. "Soujiro?" she called into the microphone. There was no reply. Misao tried to get up, but her body protested and she whimpered again. The only thing she could manage to do was pull off her mask. Deeply breathing, breath after breath, she tried to fight off the darkness enclosing on her and failed.

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Aoshi heard her scream and paled beneath his mask. He adjusted his goggles and looked to see where she had gone. There was a deep hole at the end of the path, a good ten feet at least. And she had fallen to the bottom.

Scanning the ground, he could just make out her shape, curled up on her side. For a few minutes, he swore she was dead, but then he saw her hand move out to grasp for something beside her.

"Misao, are you alright?" he called, but she didn't answer. He heard her say something into her headset, but he was sure it was broken from the fall. Then she went still and he felt a lump rise in his throat. Did he just kill a girl?

With no alternatives, Aoshi had to go down and see if she was okay. He grasped the side of the pit and lowered himself slowly, dropping the four feet between him and the bottom, landing solidly on the ground. He walked over and went to his knees at her side. Pulling off his glove, he pressed two fingers to her throat. She had a pulse, but he saw blood oozing from scrap on the back of her head. With any luck, she hadn't hit it too badly. As he turned her on to her back, he also noted Misao's dislocated shoulder.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself, looking down at the unconscious woman before him. He pulled off his own mask, rubbing his eyes and trying to think of what to do. He had always been a strategist, had he not? Trouble was, her headset was broken, and his map of the tunnels was in the duffel bag sitting conveniently at the entrance of the tunnel where he had entered. In his haste to follow her when he had first caught a glimpse of the Phantom wandering the tunnels, he had left it behind. They would suffer for that oversight.

"What are we going to do?" he asked the dark, shaking his head.

"You can start by getting my bag," a tired whisper told him. Looking down, Aoshi saw that Misao was looking up with half-lidded eyes. She was pale, paler than she should be, and didn't have the energy to summon fear. "There is... stuff in there."

"Where is it?" he asked, already getting up to comply with her request.

Misao moved her head around a little, groaning to herself. "It's somewhere."

Aoshi scanned the small area where they were, his eyes already adjusting to the dark surrounding them. He spotted a small black bag lying in a heap a few feet from Misao and grabbed it up before sitting beside her. Digging inside of it, he discovered a first aid kit and pulled it out. Opening it, and fishing around in the contents, he pulled out some things that would help stop the bleeding on her head. When he went to touch her, Misao flinched back. She might not have energy, but it was a bodily effect.

"Come on," he said in a frustrated tone. "I'm just trying to help." When he tried again, she did the same.

"Don't," she said forcefully.

"I'm just trying to help," he said again. Something in his voice made her want to believe him, but a lifetime of fear and pain called the shots.

"Just don't," she said quietly.

"You could die if I don't help you," he said angrily. Her stubbornness was not helping matters.

"Then I'll die," Misao responded almost viciously-- had she not been lying in a fetal position, it might have even been intimidating.

"Have it your way," he said. That was it; he'd washed his hands of the woman. He got up and began looking for an escape until it occurred to him that she didn't retort. Puzzled, he looked down and saw she had passed out again. "This is going to be a pattern with you, isn't it?" he asked the unconscious woman, rolling his eyes as he did so.

At least when she was out, she couldn't fidget. Using that advantage, he successfully eased her shoulder back into the socket. Then he cleaned up the cut on the back of her head. Once he was done, he followed her example and backed himself against the wall, leaning back and resting his eyes. A minute later, he was out. Neither of them quite understood the fact that they were lost beneath the streets of Rome.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of reviewer response, we humbly beg forgiveness and give a plea--just a plea to please, in fact, review. This is a much loved story and will be continued with or without the support of readers--but with is much more fun!


	6. Chapter 6: Someone Take The Wheel

A/N: Rah, we never keep our deadlines. Really sorry. My co-author and I have been playing mail-tag for weeks. We never seem to be online at the same time so we can finish going over the chapter details. Well, anyway, here's the next episode! We're really sorry for the inconvenience and I really, really hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: We do not own Rurouni Kenshin, because if we did it would be a lot different. It would have featured a talking animal of some kind.

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Safer on the Outside

Chapter 6: _"Someone Take The Wheel"_

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In a Hotel in Rome--

Kamatari Seta rested peacefully between the crisp hotel sheets. His fragile body was cushioned on the soft mattress. It had been the first real sleep he'd gotten since they left New York. Of course, he would never have told that to Misao. She worried constantly over him, fretting and nursing and trying to make sure that everything was perfect for him. It was frustrating sometimes, but understandable.

As he rested peacefully, his mind began swimming into a world of dreams, painted colors and subconscious feelings rose in his mind.

_He was back in the dance studio. The hard wood floors were waxed to shine and they creaked as he walked across them, like always. The large front windows were filled with the sunlight of a lovely day. He scanned the large room, noticing a lone dancer as she spun gracefully across the floor._

Even after eight years, his breath still caught in his throat at the sight of Misao dancing. It was too beautiful to be spoken in words. It was as if the very essence of the girl herself was somehow glowing in her movements. She moved without thought or worry or fear. When she danced, she was simply Misao Makimachi, and the rest of the world fell away from her. When she danced and when she fought, were the only times she let herself be free.

What puzzled him was that the Misao he was seeing was not present-day Misao, he was looking at Misao from eight years ago. A sixteen-year-old Misao. The age she had been when they had first found her.

Ever so slowly, as she moved through her dance, Kamatari watched her age through the years. It was like time-lapse photography, watching the girl age years in a matter of seconds. When she came to a pirouette in her dance, the aging stopped, and present day Misao stood before him.

That was when the ground opened under her feet and Misao fell from view with a single blood-curdling scream.

Kamatari woke with a jolt. In an instant, he tossed the covers from his body and tossed his feet over the edge of the bed, jamming them into the awaiting slippers. He moved silently and with a purpose, ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking as they tied the sash of his bathrobe and that his body was covered in a cold sweat.

He padded over to the nightstand and grabbed up the cell phone on the tabletop. It was the one that Soujiro had left for him when he and Misao had set out earlier in the evening. Kamatari threw open the top and punched the keys to get Soujiro's number.

Impatiently, the older Seta waited for the younger to answer.

After three rings, he was met with, "I'm busy, call back later!"

"Soujiro Seta," Kamatari barked. "If you hang up this phone I guarantee that I will remove the possibility of you ever having children!"

"Kamatari?" Soujiro sounded startled to say the least, and paused to answer the call. "What are you doing awake in the middle of the night?"

"That's not important," his brother urged, his voice getting higher in pitch with the level of his anxiety. "Misao's in danger!" Kamatari was met with only dead air. "Soujiro?" he whispered. "Soujiro!?!"

"How did you know she was in trouble?" the younger brother asked with a hitch in his voice.

Kamatari felt the bottom fall from his stomach. Misao really was in danger. The dream had been a warning. "Soujiro, tell me what happened," Kamatari ordered. "And don't leave a thing out!"

* * *

Somewhere in the catacombs--

Aoshi was unaware of how long he was actually asleep, or if he actually fell asleep at all. He was in that hazy place, between sleeping and consciousness where all things blurred into one another. Sounds, colors, smells all faded into one big lucid dream. When he blinked enough of it away to be consciously aware of his surroundings, the only light in the room was a small red dot about ten feet away.

He could vaguely make out a human shape the same distance away, and in a rush, remembered that Misao was there with him. And she had been hurt after the fall, unconscious when he tried to rest. Aoshi attempted to squint harder into the darkness in the hopes of seeing her in better shape.

That was when he caught the smell. Cigarette smoke. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed that the small red light was actually the burning end of a cigarette. He felt annoyance brimming in him. Here was Misao, who could have cracked her head open on the floor of the catacombs and died, and she was smoking.

"Those things can kill you," he muttered.

"You know, I've heard that." Her voice was equally as dry as his. The light moved from the height he could only assume to be her mouth to rest someplace lower. "You fixed my arm." It wasn't a question. It was met only with silence. "I expect you want a thank you," she continued.

"I doubt I'd know what to do with one," he muttered to himself.

Misao chuckled a little before taking another drag on her cigarette. Her arm was sore from being dislocated after her fall, but it wasn't the first time her shoulder had popped out. She doubted it would be the last. Pain faded, and she could deal with quite a bit of it. What bothered her most was her head. When she had come to and sat up, her body's soreness had taken account only after her vision had stopped swimming and her head had stopped throbbing. Now it was a sort of dull ache.

She made a mental note to have Soujiro check it out whenever she got out of this place.

Aoshi, in the meantime, got to his feet. He cracked his back loudly, spreading circulation through his tired body. "You should let me take a look at your head," he commented.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Misao scuttled back a few feet—faster than her body would have liked. "No, that's fine." She didn't want to get too comfortable in his company—he _was_ the enemy after all—but more importantly, she just didn't want him to touch her.

Aoshi made a kind of clicking sound with his tongue. Misao guessed that it was out of annoyance. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said tightly. "In case you haven't noticed, we are trapped here together. I might need you in order to get out of here, and I seriously doubt a concussion will help our escape."

"I don't care what your motive are," Misao snapped. "You're not going to touch me, got it?"

"What is your problem?"

"_You_! No one touches me, got it?" she growled. Then, in a smaller voice she added, "I'm aphephobic."

That was met with a wall of cold silence. "Fear of physical contact," he muttered after a few moments, pacing a little around the hole they were in. Maybe, with a little luck, there would be a secret way out, or a grove in the stone they could climb on to get out. "Not exactly a thief-like trait."

"A thief only touches what they steal," Misao commented, more to herself then to him. "Or when they're fighting someone. Other than that, I can easily avoid it."

"So you can kick someone, but not let them look at a head wound?"

He was mocking her, and that was making her angry. "My business is my own. It has nothing to do with you. Why do you care anyway?"

"I don't," he commented easily. "But just because I don't care doesn't mean I'm not curious."

Misao looked at him with a level expression that he couldn't quite make out in the darkness. "Did you find a way out yet?" Tactfully changing the subject was something she had always been good at.

Still, he noticed her motives. "Actually, I think I have."

* * *

In the van--

Soujiro Seta, cigarette between his teeth, headset over his ears, and hands moving from one keyboard to another, had never worked so hard in all of his life. His fingers shook, his brain hurt, and his eyes were tearing from the smoke in the van. Still, he refused to open a window or stop smoking. It calmed his nerves; let him think better.

He had to find Misao.

That was the only thing that mattered to him right now. Not exhaustion, not breaking million-dollar equipment, not even if they got the fucking swords or not. He was going to find his sister and he was going to get her out of there before that freak Aoshi Shinomori did anything to her.

The door to the van slid open behind him, and the clouds of smoke billowed out into the night air. Kamatari coughed roughly after being hit in the face with it. "For the love of God, Soujiro, _put that out_!" he yelled.

"No time," Soujiro said, eying on the screen that showed a map of the catacombs. "Gotta find her."

"At least let us help you," Sanosuke said with annoyance as he came into view beside Kamatari. Megumi and Kaoru were behind them. It seemed his darling older brother had woken the entire team. Good, Soujiro would put them to work.

"Well, don't all of you just stand there," Soujiro barked. "We've got work to do!"

"What can we do?" Kamatari asked.

Soujiro got to his feet, pulling a flashlight and his sword from the front seat. "Simple," he declared. "I'm going in after my sister."

"Soujiro, you don't know where she is!" Kamatari protested.

"I know she went down here," he snapped, pointing to the point on the map where he had lost contact with Misao. "That's where I'll start." He tossed a headset to Kamatari. "You can guide me through it like I was doing for Misao."

"What about us?" Kaoru asked, looking determined to do something.

"Kaoru, Sanosuke, you can come with me," he said after a moment. "Megumi, stay with Kamatari."

"Right," the doctor nodded, climbing into the van with her charge.

"Soujiro," Kamatari said, a wan smiling pulling on his lips. "You're taking charge."

Soujiro returned his smile with an impish grin. "Don't get any ideas. I'll become a slacker again as soon as we find Misao." His brother nodded and the younger Seta turned toward the others. "Do you have your weapons?" They nodded and he tossed them each a flashlight. "Let's go then."

"Soujiro," Kamatari called. "Find my little bird." There was a pleading tone in his voice, an almost desperate fear outweighed only by the love he had for that girl.

"I will," Soujiro promised. His silver-blue eyes had darkened to brown, a sign of anger and concentration. "If there are any problems, let me know."

There was a curt nod and the two parties departed. Soujiro led the other two into the catacombs, the same way Misao had gone before. Kamatari and Megumi turned on the headset before setting about finding a safe path for their teammates. Each of them prayed that they'd find Misao before anything happened to her.

* * *

In the catacombs--

"_This_ is your brilliant plan?" Misao questioned after she had wrenched herself to her feet and stumbled over to where Aoshi was indicating. There was a small opening in the jagged rock of the wall, just big enough for a person to squeeze though. "We have no idea where this goes!"

"Would you prefer to stay in this hole then?" he asked calmly.

"At least in this hole someone could find us off of the main path!" she argued. "If we go through here, God only knows where we'll end up or how we'll get out."

"The way I see it," Aoshi said calmly. "You can take your chances in this hole or you can come with me through the opening. It's your choice, Misao, but I'm going."

"Have fun," she snapped. "I am _not_ going in there."

"Oh well," he said without any remorse. Then he disappeared through the opening.

For a few minutes, Misao was dumbstruck. He actually left her behind, in the pit, alone and injured. That _bastard_! How dare he? That was when she decided to follow, just to give him a piece of her mind, not because she was afraid or anything ridiculous like that.

Hobbling back over to the center of the pit, Misao groped around in the pitch dark until she found her bag, then she tossed it over her good shoulder before following Aoshi through the opening. "Stupid shadows… goddamned sword… I hate my job…"

"All your complaining could wake the dead," Aoshi muttered from his position of waiting for her through the opening. Misao, not expecting him to be there, shrieked and fell backwards.

"Holy fuck!" she screeched. "Don't you ever fucking do that to me again! I could have died!"

He only chuckled lightly at her expense. "Come on, we should keep moving if we want out of here."

Misao glared at his back as she followed him down the dark, winding path, hugging her bag to her chest. She didn't trust this thief in the least, but she knew it was safer to be with someone who could fight, than to be alone and injured in a pit. That was just asking for death. He made no further attempts to touch her, or frighten her, or threaten her, but she was still threatened and jumpy. Every time he slowed, she'd skitter back a step or two.

He didn't comment, though it annoyed him a great deal. He didn't trust this little rogue, for all her weakened state of innocence. She could just as easily jump him from behind—though he doubted she'd be that impulsively stupid. Aoshi was sure that she had a great deal of self-preservation skills.

"How much farther do you think this path will go?" she whispered in the darkness after they had been walking for at least an hour.

"No idea," he responded. "But the air is getting fresher, so I'd say we're getting closer to an opening."

"That's something at least," she muttered aloud. "God, I hope Soujiro finds me…"

"You're hoping for rescue?" he asked with a little amusement. "Here I thought the Phantom Rogue worked alone."

"Hardly," Misao scoffed. "I do the easy part."

"The actual stealing," he voiced in understanding. "You've got a technical team then."

"You met one of them," she said with a rueful smile. "The one who helped me in the warehouse."

"Boyfriend?" he asked, not really sure why. The word had just come to his mind, and then to his lips, since he was too busy concentrating on walking and not enough on the conversation.

"Brother," Misao said with a laugh. "Aphephobic, remember?"

"Ah, yes," he responded.

That was when the winding path finally came to a halt, and the two lost thieves found themselves in a kind of crypt-like antechamber. The walls were lined with large slabs in which bodies were meant to rest. But instead, the black stone was empty of corpses. The chamber seemed empty of everything, just an impressive circular alcove full of stale air and dim light.

"Where is that light coming from?" Misao asked, spotting a stray beam that fell across one of the empty tombs.

Aoshi followed it with is eyes to a hole in the ceiling. "Up there," he commented, pointing to a crumbling section of masonry ceiling. "There must be some kind of light in the upper chamber."

"Then we have to get up there!" Misao announced.

"How do you propose we do that?" he asked, turning to her.

"Hold my bag," Misao said with a click of her tongue, tossing the black bag into his reflexive arms. "I'll take a closer look."

Head still throbbing, shoulder still aching, Misao pulled herself up into one of the empty tombs, then to the one above that, and the other above that. She climbed slowly, but carefully and purposefully, until she reached the top tomb and the section of crumbling stone.

"Careful," Aoshi called from the ground. "It might collapse if you prod it too much."

"I'm not an idiot," she responded in a sing-song voice as her fingers probed the stone easily. Some of it crumbled away under her light touch, but most of it groaned when she added slight pressure. "Better move," she advised. "I wouldn't want you to get hit on your pretty little head."

That said, she pressed upwards on the stone with all the strength in her wiry limbs. She heard the groan and the cracking, just what she had been hoping for. Then, she quickly pulled herself back, out of range of the falling stone. And fall it did, a four-foot opening gaped above her into a well-lit chamber.

"And God said, let there be light," she grinned.

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A/N: Okay, the end of the chapter! I swear to get the next one out sooner, and I will. I've got a nice idea ready and set for the final Roman installment—then we'll be heading to another exotic location. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please remember to review!


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